Aurora
by Richard Caine
Summary: BTVS/Hellboy - Season 5/Plague of Frogs: As one hero dies, another is born. Fate is twisted by an unexpected player and the final desperate plan of the greatest of the Fallen Angels is put into play. Welcome to the End of Days, Dawn Summers style.
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: Hellboy is the property of Dark Horse Comics and Mike Mignola. Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel are both the property of Mutant Enemy and their affiliates. I own neither, and am writing this neither for commercial distribution nor profit. If they so require I will take this down whenever they ask. Original Characters are my property and may be used only with permission. Seriously folks, all you have to do is ask. I'm writing Fanfiction for crying out loud.

Author's Introduction:

This piece is something of a brain release for me; and something that actually struck me right after I had watched _Hellboy II: The Golden Army_. I had, the day previous, been reading the works of some of the great Buffy the Vampire Slayer continuations; particularly the _Nyazian Prophecies_, _WaTchers_, and _Chosen, _who I cannot recommend strongly enough for fans of the series. In these works I saw a treatment of characters such as Dawn and Connor that made me rethink much of what I had thought when I saw them on screen.

I realized something critical after deep thought; Dawn Summers was one of the greatest missed opportunities in storytelling in the last ten years. Though I love Buffy, the potential richness of the character both as a teenage girl and as a powerful supernatural entity were entirely missed by the writers.

This is my own thoughts on her development and also the development of the closing seasons of Angel and Buffy into a truly mind-bogglingly epic story. After all, when you do a cross with Hellboy, you really can't do anything less.

I will also add a note here however to help clear up potential confusion for the audience. This work, though it uses Guillermo Del Toro's imagery and characters of the Fairy Realms, is primarily based in the universe of the Hellboy and BPRD comics. As such there are some things people need to remember.

First; Hellboy and Liz. That was in the movies, which I enjoyed. However I like the comics better for this storyline. In the comics Hellboy seems to look at her more like a little sister. Remember that in the comics, Hellboy's character voice is mature and he has been basically a full adult since the late fifties. Not so much with the young adult antics in this one.

Second; temporal placement. When the two stories merge together, Hellboy has already left the BPRD (post Conqueror Worm) and to some degree gone to meet his destiny (The Island I and II) and the remaining BPRD Agents are just beginning their struggle with the Plague of Frogs in earnest (The Black Flame). For those who care, note that I've accelerated events in the BPRD continuum by about three years. Sadu-hem showed up again pretty much four months after Hellboy disappeared from the service. This will hopefully forestall the continuity fascists; but that may be a slim hope.

So hold on; the world's about to get crazier; the Senior Partners pulling LA into hell (not a huge change in my biased opinion...) was a cakewalk compared to what I've got planned. But there is still hope; there's always hope.

-Caine

**Prologue**

She was bleeding. God, she'd never been more scared in her entire life. There was pain and Glory's laughter. From where she was suspended it was as if time slowed. Spike and Doc fought. Spike fell. And with that she felt her heart twist in her chest. Then there was Buffy. She stood there, freed her. But it was too late. It had started and now there was only one way to stop it. She had to go. She had to stop it, even if she died. Quor-toth could _not_ be allowed into this world. She wouldn't let it. Why wouldn't Buffy let go of her, let her do what she had to do? Why were her eyes so desperate? Her kiss was warm; a sister's kiss. For her; the fraud. She was an impostor, a fake. Why was Buffy doing this? What reason could she possibly have?

She watched as her sister flung herself off the tower, towards the energy that was building.

_Her energy._

She didn't know what to think, what to do. As Buffy passed through the energies, she could feel her sister's soul. She could feel that soul being rent and torn by part of her own essence. And she couldn't do a damn thing to stop it. She felt weak and insignificant. Her mother was dead, and she felt Buffy die. But as the soul of the one who'd been a sister to her despite her falseness slipped through her Power;

She remembered.

_In the beginning there was nothing._

_Then there was Everything._

_And it was Good._

_So many passed; temporal things, stars and planets were. Things that came and went. However She would abide. Though all things were ordered by the First Will, even its infinite might required a cornerstone to separate one thing from another._

_More correctly, it required a Keystone. The lynch pin upon which the fabric of space and time were hung, the thing through which the movement between spaces was possible._

_The Key._

Buffy hit the ground with a pathetic crunch. Tears and blood streamed from her body as she watched the body of that brave girl; her sister, look so broken. It wasn't her sister anymore it was... an empty shell. It was meaningless.

The blue light of the portal should have faded. It intensified to near blinding levels.

_She was summoned, brought to this place by those who had no understanding of her true nature. Such arrogant creatures, they played at being gods and rulers. She had been created by the First Will; she had existed before the Fallen had created the Ogdru Jahad. She was eternal, outside of their time and their control._

_Even the children of the Ogdru Hem and the Fallen Greater Spirits feared her, feared both what she could do and what would happen to her if they were to derail her purpose. So they left her alone. Free._

_Time, as mortals measure such things, passed._

_Others came as the Ogdru Hem slept beneath the world, waiting for the appointed time. Some came to claim Her, others to protect Her, and yet more sought to destroy Her._

_Not one of them understood Her._

_It puzzled Her that She would be hidden from the Ogdru Hem which was named Glorificus. Embodiment was... foreign. Yet it was still interesting; still something of worth in and of itself. Ever had she been curious for it was the First Will that had made her so, just as he had the Greater Spirit who's right hand had birthed and bound the Great Dragon beyond time and in the depths of space. So She became born of the Slayer's blood, and walked as woman for a time._

_This was new – this pain. This... suffering. And for the first time She, the spindle upon which the Diamond Wheel turned, felt compassion. And rage. Such rage._

Dawn closed her blue eyes. When those same eyes opened again, it was not the terrified fourteen year old girl that stared out; it was The Key. Her eyes flashed with emerald light, pupil-less and alien. The portal snapped shut as the blood did as blood would do. Green lightning danced around her, crackling and snapping like a caged demon. She was more now... more than the construct the Monks of Dagon had created. She was the Key.

She spoke a single word, and her voice sounded like the chords of a disorganized symphony, but the name was clear to all who could see the great tower. It carried along the wind, and those creatures who heard it and were loyal to Quor-toth's mistress shuddered.

"Glorificus."

The light flashed green and bright and pure as the wounds upon her body stitched themselves together in a flash.

Then she was gone.

0oooo0oooo0

Ben flopped on the plank onto which he'd been tossed. Though his body wasn't in total pain all the time, he knew that Glory had been beaten. Soundly in fact. He'd wondered why Buffy had let him live. He certainly wasn't expecting to, not after all that had happened. He wrenched his head around when he heard footsteps behind him. His eyes fixed upon the jacketed form that had death in his eyes.

Ben knew that he was going to die, despite the surge of hope that burst from him.

"Please," he begged as the Watcher advanced upon him. Yet the aging man was not the one to reach him. There was a flash of green light and a kid was kneeling beside him. Buffy's little sister was standing in front of him with a blank face. Her emotionless gaze seemed to measure him as Giles ground to a stop just behind her. It was funny but other than her blank expression she looked just like the fourteen year old girl he remembered. Except this kid was just a fourteen year old girl the way that he was just a med student; which is to say that it was a woefully inaccurate description. He hadn't noticed it before, but he sure did now.

"Dawn?" Giles asked quietly. His eyes were wide and his tone was cautious.

"Sort of," Dawn replied. "But more."

"The Key," Giles whispered. Ben's eyes bugged out, as Dawn's eyes flashed green.

"Yes," she said simply. Green lightning crackled along her arms as she held one out behind her to ward off the approaching Watcher. "No closer Shadow Man, or I will hurt you. I don't want to, but... this one's mine."

Giles stopped inching forward and held his hands up in a gesture of surrender. His tone was artificially soft; the voice of a man talking down a lunatic or dangerous animal. "Now Dawn, you shouldn't do anything in haste."

"This isn't hasty," Dawn said quietly. "This isn't revenge, this isn't even justice. It is simple prevention. My family is dead. She isn't going to take anyone else's. Goodbye Glorificus."

Her other arm extended and there was an awful screech as gravity twisted around Ben's neck. The sickening snap was loud in the empty alleyway. Then there was a rumbling and Ben's body disintegrated into smoldering ashes. Dawn slowly got to her feet and Giles blanched as she turned around to face him. She blinked a little and shook her head as she looked at him.

"You were going to do it, weren't you?" she asked. Giles nodded slowly. Dawn looked sympathetic and distant, lost in memory.

"I don't think the others would like it," Dawn said quietly. "But I can understand."

"Can you really?" Giles shot at her, with a venom born more out of surprise and anxiety than anger.

"More than you know Shadow Man," Dawn said with a ghost of a smile. Giles' reaction to that title was telling.

"How do you know that name?" Giles asked after a moment. Dawn closed her eyes for a moment and exhaled.

"I'm... I'm starting to remember things Giles," she said faintly. She opened her eyes and Giles could see the shifting nimbus of emerald light that played behind her pupils now. They reflected the light, just like a cat's. "Somehow I can remember. Maybe it was what happened on the... the tower, maybe something else. But I do remember things. I know where your people come from Giles, and I know what they were in that day. Not real nice guys. Of course at the time I didn't give a damn."

Dawn gave a slightly unhinged laugh as she slid to her knees. "All this stuff in my head, all these memories, and none of it..."

She suddenly burst into a wail, tears falling down her face. Giles reached down and hugged her tight to his chest. Her fingers curled like claws into his leather jacket. Her voice broke through the sobs. "None of it hurts this much. Why does it hurt so much?"

0oooo0oooo0

She didn't really remember him bundling her up and carrying her away. Somehow someone took care of the funeral arrangements for Buffy. It must have been Xander or Giles. She did remember the funeral though. It was... there were so few people there. Just the Scoobies minus their core. She watched as Willow and Tara clutched each other, as Xander and Giles stood resolute. Even Anya looked like she was in some kind of pain, hanging onto Xander's side. Spike, good old William the Bloody, was nowhere to be seen. Probably off getting drunk like a looser again. Dawn didn't know why that thought stung her so much.

The others each went forward first, saying or doing whatever they felt like they needed to do. Some placed flowers, other items, and yet others words. She honestly didn't really pay attention until it was her turn. And her... she ran her hand across the stone in front of her and smiled just a little through her own tears.

"Right next to mom," she whispered. "Just like you would have wanted. Don't worry about them. I'll... I'll take care of them Buff. I promise you I will. Rest in peace. If anyone deserves it, you do."

She stood and took a step back from where the shell that was no longer her sister rested. Tara sidled up behind her and wrapped a strong arm around her. Muscles from a young life of farm work supported her and warmth flowed into her. She felt so cold, even though it was May in southern California. Her long fingered hands curled around Tara's strong arm. The part of her that was just Dawn wanted to stay here, to bask in this. She wanted to get something... anything back. But the part of her that was as old as time knew that wouldn't ever work. She could see the others around her falling apart and she was powerless to do anything to stop it.

Dawn gently prompted Tara, who released her reluctantly. She turned to smile at Tara and Willow. "Thanks isn't enough for what you guys have done. But there's something that I need to do. I need to go... I can feel something calling me. I have to leave for a while."

The assembled Scoobies looked at her with expressions ranging from outright disbelief to a sort of patronizing smile. She hated Xander's stare the most. "You think I'm kidding right? Just a kid playing around?"

Anger made the others regard her with a more cautious stare. She had been re-learning her own limits over the past three days between bouts of crying. Still, she had her control down enough for this. She stretched out her arm, and green light snaked out causing all of the Scoobies to gawk slightly as they were suddenly all in the entryway of the Magic Box. Dawn unleashed a fragment of her own power and levitated just a little. Her not inconsiderable height for a fifteen year old made it fairly easy to loom over them with streaks of green white lightning crackling over her body. Eyes glowed with green power and her voice had taken on it's symphonic character.

"I am not just a child," she said. "I'm more than that. I'm the Key."

Giles had seen this before; he was the least taken aback. The others looked at her with fear (Anya), worry (Willow), and some degree of awe (Xander). She released the power, allowing in to retreat into her self as she settled on the floor of the Magic Box.

"Sorry about that guys," she said with a sad smile. "But... I needed to get your attention."

"Dawn patrol," Xander said carefully. "You can do that without the teleporty freaky mojo. I promise."

"No, I don't think I could," Dawn said. "Not for this. I need to go. I don't need a car or anything; I can travel just about anywhere, but I need to go. There's something I have to do. For Buffy."

"So this is about misplaced guilt over the death of your sister?" Anya asked. Dawn threw her a very evil glare.

"No," she pouted. It wasn't the most convincing rebuttal they'd ever heard.

"Dawn," Giles began. "We know you're hurting..."

"And we are too," interjected Xander with a surprisingly firm and sincere tone.

"But... Buffy wouldn't want you making any rash decisions like this," Giles continued. "I must admit I'm worried as well. I'm sure you all know by now j – just how dangerous it is to be on your own. And for all that you have these... powers now, you still have the mind of a girl. It will be dangerous to you in the extreme."

"Not like Buffy ever ran away," Dawn muttered. She crossed her arms under her breasts and huffed. "And I'm not going to be running away."

"What are you doing then?" Xander asked with a raised eyebrow. "I don't think that you just got the urge to go on the end-all be-all sightseeing tour because they're going to close down the arm of the Statue of Liberty in a few months."

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," Dawn said, leaning against a nearby bookcase looking painfully young.

"We're just worried about you Dawn," Tara began. "We're not trying to push you away. Tell us what you're going to do. It's not like any of us could really stop you from going anyway."

Willow's hands twitched reflexively at that, and Giles gave her a very concerned look. Dawn gave a bitter laugh.

"Can't I worry about you guys too?" she asked in a rising voice. "Buffy... Buffy just died out there. We have, what, the Buffybot for patrolling? Faith is in jail, nobody knows if another Slayer will show up do they Giles?"

Giles frowned and polished his glasses, but declined to give any other answer. Dawn gave a bitter smirk.

"Figures," she muttered. She looked around. "Guys we need something... we need help. We can't do this by ourselves. Not without Buffy."

No one had any answer for her right then. No one could answer. Dawn pushed off of the bookshelf behind her. "We lost Buffy. We aren't getting her back. But... we did gain something else."

Greenish flames leaped over her arms as Dawn extended them to the side of her body. "We got something else, something to tip the balance a little bit. But I need to know how to use this, how to control it fully in a human body. In my body."

Giles' eyes widened as he placed his spectacles back on his nose. He was the first to truly understand what Dawn was implying. "Absolutely not! You will not be doing this Dawn. This is complete foolishness! You sister did not die so that you could... pursue this, this, completely idiotic idea."

"No she didn't," Dawn replied in a cold voice. "She died to protect her little sister who wasn't even real in the first place. Admit it, none of you would want me instead of her, would you? I know that you want her back. I can't... I can't be Buffy. Not in a thousand years. But... I can be something else."

"No," Tara interjected quietly. She looked over the faces of the other Scoobies, confused and without a response to Dawn's cutting remark. "You can't say it like that. T-That isn't true. We didn't want either of you to die. It isn't about who was better, or who was worth more. You're both precious to us."

"But sometimes you don't have a choice do you?" Dawn asked. Her mouth quirked into a teary smile. "I didn't want to die. Dawn the girl who hasn't even had a real date yet didn't want to die. Dawn the Key who's existed since the beginning of time didn't want to die. And... I just let her do it. I could have stopped her, really stopped her, but I didn't. I let her die for me. Can you forgive that, huh?"

Dawn glared at Giles, daring him to do anything, but he was too stricken, too shocked to do anything other than looked torn. She looked at them all. "You thought I was powerless, and I kind of was. Until I started to die, when Glory's spell was ripping me apart to open that gateway. It... I guess it broke the monks' spell on me. It shattered my illusions. I remembered so much. I was there you know? When everything started. I remember the Beginning."

She closed her eyes as Tara and Willow both gave her goggle eyed stares. Dawn smiled just a little bit. "It... It was like music. I could hear the spheres spin, feel it as the music sang the universe to life. It was... cool. Really cool."

Xander barked in laughter at her totally inadequate words. He couldn't help himself. "All that English homework that we helped you with and the best word you have is cool? What about all those Scrabble winners that Mrs. Vanholt made you memorize?"

"I guess I suck at English," Dawn shrugged, opening her eyes. Her smile became a frown. "I didn't understand. I didn't want to loose that, didn't know what would happen if I was destroyed. If I died. Do I have a soul? Do I go to heaven? Will I ever see them again? I don't know."

Dawn's frown smoothed out a little. "I'm pretty sure I won't see them. I'll never see heaven guys. Not like you will. I... I don't belong there. I knew it was a mistake telling you this. Look, I'll be back. I promise I will; but right now I just can't stay here. Good bye, and thank you for everything. I'll come back when it's time."

"Dawnie wait!" Willow exclaimed, but Dawn was already wreathed in green light. Then she was gone.

The Scoobies stared long and hard at the vacated Magic Box.

"Well, I believe that I speak for all and sundry when I say that was completely unexpected," Xander began. Anya looked up at him with a frown on her face.

"Dawn running away?"

"Well that too," Xander said thoughtfully. "Though I was more concerned with the teleporting mojo myself."

"What can we do?" Tara whispered.

"There is only one thing we truly can do," Giles said. "And that is to wait."

And so they did.


	2. Chapter 1 Manhattan

Chapter 1: Manhattan

She huddled against the spring rain, her coat wrapped tightly around herself. She had been on the move constantly for a few weeks now. Though she'd been smart enough to bring a decent chunk of money with her, she knew it wouldn't last forever. She avoided staying in nice motels, though she knew that she was running the risk of something bad happening to her. She wasn't an idiot after all.

Just a masochist, apparently.

It was as much a surprise to her as it would have been to another. She'd thought that she'd been lying to the Scoobies when she'd claimed to be called on a quest of some kind. It was true, she had a vague idea, she wanted to grow stronger, wanted to find some meaning in Buffy's death. The specifics had just never materialized. Yet as she'd worked her way further away from Sunnydale, the ringing in her ears and the echo in her power had grown greater. Something was calling her. The force that had been compelling her, moving her forward had only grown stronger as she had blinked her way across America. It hounded at her dreams; a beacon of light. When she closed her eyes she could feel it within herself, like a compass needle pointing northwards. It was maddening, like an unscratched itch crawling down her spine.

She counted it as pure luck that she hadn't really run into any real trouble. It helped that she could probably just leave if anything got too bad, but after Glory, she really didn't care much anymore. Any two bit thug or rapist would be in for a surprise if they tried to jump her. She'd been working on extending her awareness. She doubted anyone could really surprise her anymore unless they were in a giant crowd.

When she'd been the Key for all those ages she'd been able to sense all those around her. Each presence in the world left a distinct feeling, an imprint on the world around it. Even though she could not see things behind her, she could feel them in a way that most others simply couldn't. The space around her sang to her, telling her of all who passed through it's web. Though she was a sucky poet, the analogy fit. It felt much like hearing and feeling at the same time, like the deep thrum of the bass that would cause her mother to yell at her when she turned her music up too loud.

Joyce, Dawn corrected herself. Joyce had been a good woman, and treated her with love that she didn't deserve; but Joyce was not truly her mother. She had to remember that, had to push through.

So here she was. Times Square. Yippee. She stood out in the open, still while the New York night whirled around her in a dance of light and noise. She didn't care. She wasn't here for the people. She looked up at the great glowing billboards and sat, listening. For what she wasn't entirely sure.

"Excuse me miss," a voice queried. Dawn looked away from the light to look at the hunched woman sitting next to her. "Are you lost?"

"That's an affirmative," Dawn replied. "I... I felt like I needed to come here you know? And now that I'm here I have no idea where to go."

"Ooh," the old woman crooned and Dawn's forehead crinkled a little. She felt something... something about this woman was off. The green fire in Dawn's veins began to sing slightly in sympathy as the old woman looked at her in a judging way. "You don't want to be out here. Come with me dearie. I've got a notion I know where you're supposed to be."

She allowed the old woman to lead her along, her slender hand in the grip of the old woman's stubby paw. They wove around the back streets of Manhattan for almost fifteen minutes, and Dawn was beginning to grow even more concerned. Yet they still walked until they were facing what looked like a back entrance to some kind of industrial shop of some kind.

"You see, it is here," the old woman hissed through her gaped teeth. Dawn paused and looked at the woman as she reached up and twisted something. The doorway slid apart, pale blue light spilling out of it. It was the back of some kind of machine shop. The old woman beamed and jumped up. Bemused, Dawn followed on her heels carefully. She would have yelled at the crazy woman if the door hadn't just opened from some mechanism that Dawn couldn't understand. The first door led to another and yet another. They crossed down an ancient looking stone staircase, accompanied by the dripping of water down her back. Wearing her raincoat, she was spared the worst of it, but it was still cold and stale water.

Then they were in a tunnel, long and lit only at intervals with lights that looked far too old to be year 2000 halogens. The dim orange glow they gave off cast everything in an eerie orange and black monochrome. Dawn wasn't sure how far they walked, but the walk ended when they found themselves before a large hallway with an enormous door. It was huge, three times her height in diameter, easily. The oak tree emblazoned upon it was a beautiful brass, glittering in the golden sodium light of the lamps. Her hand reached out to trace the symbols while the old woman hobbled to a brass panel that folded aside to reveal a drum engraved with symbols that she hazily recognized.

This... this wasn't a place for normal people, Dawn realized.

"What you were looking for, yes?" The old woman prompted. Dawn blinked at her as the old woman gestured towards the the drum. "The code for entrance, know it do you?"

"Yes," Dawn said with a slow smile. Yes, she knew all the codes. No door could bar her way. She was the Key. She walked over to the drum and placed her hand between it and the door. Her eyes cinched closed and she concentrated. She heard the old woman hiss in surprise, and maybe fear, as the dials on the drum began to spin at an incredible rate through her focus. One after another they locked into place until the sequence was completed.

She opened her eyes as she heard the door cycle open, panels and locks folding away as the great metal plate rolled out of the way. She gave the terrified looking woman a smile. "Doors are usually no prob."

The hag nodded once and then hobbled away from her as fast as she could. Dawn felt bemused at the woman's antics, but stepped forward anyhow, into the lantern light. Despite having Buffy for a sister, despite having seen the full fury of a Hell God, despite her own powers, she had never, ever seen anything like this.

The arcane glory of the Brooklyn Bridge Troll Market spread out before her, a riot of sounds and colors that her senses reveled in. A pair of giant trolls argued with a beautiful nymph over something clutched between their hands. Sprites with fluttering wings and multiple heads swooped low over stalls that held everything from televisions to Persian rugs, to things that would be right at home in the 'Extremely Restricted' area of the Magic Box.

None of the passing patrons seemed to give her much more than a single look, but they hurried about their business. She saw several small creatures peer at her curiously before darting off in what looked like terror. Bemused, Dawn strolled down among the stalls listening to the riot of tongues and the whiff of strange musk and perfumes. It was sooo weird. And it was comforting too. For the first time since Buffy died, Dawn felt... right. This was where she needed to be.

Now, if she only knew why.

0oooo0oooo0

Mr. Wink was having a bad day.

Most days Mr. Wink had were bad days as a sane person would measure such things. If they didn't start out that way, he tended to make them end up that way. He liked bad days. They gave him ample excuse to pound annoying people into paste, and that was very satisfying.

This was a different sort of bad day.

It had begun innocently enough. Mr. Wink had decided to try his hand this month in the local arena matches. Now, unfortunately there were few fatalities in the pit among seasoned fighters. Healers were always on hand, for excellent warriors were not a commodity to be squandered when they could grease the wheels of commerce so effectively.

Technically ranked as an amateur, Mr. Wink was anything but. At nine feet tall and weighing almost a ton, he was a mountain troll of Nordic descent and proud of it. His skin was blue like frozen rocks and his teeth were sharp and numerous. He'd once hunted the fjords and later the Emerald Isle. He hadn't been alive during the Great War, but he understood why it had happened. The humans were simply insatiable. Mr. Wink could sympathize with that; he was a troll after all. But he figured it would be best really to just get all that aggression out. Why not just have a cage match and see who won? He didn't really have any sympathy for the politics, though he was far more aware of them than most of the Fae. After all, not many could boast to having the Exiled Prince as a regular drinking buddy.

He had been fighting so long that his stony hide was covered in scars and his knuckles had crushed the life out of more than a few dozen arrogant humans and even more Fae. This lower human headcount wasn't because Mr. Wink liked humans, far from it really. The average human really just wasn't much of a challenge. Particularly after the Slayer he'd once fought. No other human came close to that girl. She'd been a hair's breadth from winning that one, and only luck and four centuries of combat experience had kept Mr. Wink's head upon his considerable neck.

Though most at the arena knew him, Mr. Wink wasn't often listed. He was more of a ringer really. A clan of out-of-towners, some bunch of feather headed fools from the Great Plains or something, had placed a large bet against him, seeing him truthfully listed as a part time gladiator. He could hear their screams of rage when he put his opponent down after a long and mostly showy fight. After all, Mr. Wink if he'd wanted could have won that fight in the first thirty seconds.

The fight would have been entertaining enough in and of itself, but the cash purse prizes weren't exactly unwelcome either. And so, having been victorious in the arena he had made his way home to the part of the subway tunnel network that he shared with his old friend the prince Nuada. He'd just about reached the exit of the market when he'd hit upon a glitch; one of the kind of glitches that hits back.

His head smashed into the nearby wall of the market stall, further enraging him and causing the goblin merchant to start throwing a fit (as well as his broken merchandise) which wasn't really helping things any. Their first blow had been to his head. Mr. Wink counted it as a fortunate coincidence that his skull was quite thick. Thick enough that the blow itself did little more than make him stumble. However his foes were fast and very, very persistent. They were tall creatures, taller than Mr. Wink which was impressive, with gangly arms and the heads of coal feathered crows. Their long arms held notched clubs that they used to mercilessly beat upon his fallen form.

This state of affairs was one Mr. Wink was disinclined to allow to continue, and he informed his attackers of such with a roar that shook the cobbles beneath him. His arms flailed out, striking both of the native trolls. The first was disarmed as his studded club was knocked soundly aside by Mr. Wink's rather meaty forearm. The second was less lucky and lost a kneecap to a fortunate strike that laid the creature out with a thud.

Climbing to his feet, Mr. Wink was set upon by the first creature that he'd simply disarmed. It leaped at him and only by raising his left arm could he keep it's beak from chomping down on his neck. However the bugger's jaws were much stronger that Mr. Wink would ever have suspected from such a creature. He released a roar of pain as it almost completely severed his left arm, cutting deep into the bone. Mr. Wink's rage fueled counter blow stove in the skull of the crow headed troll, and it released it's grip.

Bloody native trolls. Strutting around like they owned the place.

But now he was in trouble, and Mr. Wink knew it. Blood was pouring from the wreckage of his left forearm and the other troll was getting to its knees, despite the damage he'd done it. Mr. Wink stumbled a little, but his charge was as effective as it had always been. His fist shattered the chest of the remaining troll and it fell backwards. Mr. Wink decided that the fellow had a rather bright idea, and decided to follow suit.

His arm cradled against his chest, he looked down at it and the blood flowing forth. This would be troublesome. The Exiled Prince would be extremely unhappy with him. No poker night this week. As his vision began to gray out, he watched as something small and almost edible looking seemed to sidle up to him. It smelled... almost like a human. But there was something that gave him pause. A scent of sharp pine and crackling ozone. Then Mr. Wink's vision faded to gray and he knew no more.

0oooo0oooo0

Dawn had wandered around the market with a deep seated sense of awe. Though she had seen more demons than she'd ever wanted to, and this place was just as freaksome in it's own way, there was a kind of wholeness here in the market's inhabitants that Demons lacked. The fairies who flitted around her on gossamer dragonfly wings didn't give off that sense of wrongness that the creatures of Sunnydale did. Her own senses had grown much stronger out here. It was as if the gray hues of the world had suddenly become Technicolor. She was only now beginning to realize just how suffocating the taint of the Hellmouth was and the realization scared her. If it was this bad for her, how was it for Buffy? For Tara? Or god, for Willow?

Dark thoughts of the powerful woman that Willow was becoming tainted by the power of Sunnydale were dancing through her head as she leaned over to examine a stack of texts in an open air stall. It was a magic book; one that she'd heard Anya complaining about the difficulty of finding. Well, buying it would certainly get Anya off her back. One was better than none. An accordion-necked creature sat in a folding chair, watching her carefully as she peered at his wares. Its four arms were crossed underneath its chest and its set of four glittering sapphire blue eyes regarded her with a hint of distrust.

"See something you like do you human?" it wheezed as it's long neck descended. There was a rush of air as it expanded outwards again, causing Dawn to flinch back with wide eyes.

"Oh, sorry," she muttered. "I uh was just looking at this copy of Deadalus' Codecies of Craftsmanship. An friend was looking for a copy of it."

"Ah," it replied as the neck descended once more. "A most enlightening book. But most expensive as well. There are few copies, rare it is."

"How much?" Dawn asked. The accordion faerie looked thoughtful.

"I care not for Man's currency," it said after a moment. Its gaze became speculative. "Perhaps there are other things of interest you may have? The blood of a unicorn? The sneeze of giant? The hair of an Outsider?"

Dawn stopped.

_They had found her one day as she flitted through the sky on her way. The tallest of them, the Forest King, had rode into the sky to race beside her for a time and she beheld him. When he reached out to touch her power, she slid through his fingers as would sand. _

_Balor the Great was satisfied. In his tongue he named her._

_Divish-nal. One of the Outsiders; not born of nature or artifice, but something more primal. Something from the times before forests and hills._

Slowly Dawn reached down into her belt and drew out the dagger that Buffy had given her when she'd first learned about Demons. Of course, that had never really happened, but the weapon was real enough and razor sharp. Carefully she gathered a small lock of her long hair and drew the knife across it. The brown hair slid into her hand and she looked right at the merchant. She held her index finger to her lips and green lightning danced for just a split second over the extended digit.

"The hair of an Outsider," she said quietly, placing it in the shaking paw of the distraught merchant across from her. "Book please."

"Y-y-yes Great One," the merchant said with a horrified expression. At least, Dawn thought it was a horrified expression. It was hard to tell with this guy. One of his long, thin arms held out the book and she snatched it from his grip with a bright smile.

"Thanks much," she said. "Have a nice day!"

She waved at him as she walked off into the crowd. She was pleased to see the strange fae wave back very slowly with its own hand. She placed the Daedelus Codex into her back-pack with a satisfied smirk. Dawn dusted her hands off and smiled.

"Well, am I awesome?" she asked the empty air. "Or am I awesome? Summers 1, strange fairlyand critter 0."

The roar of a creature in a great deal of pain shocked her out of her happy daze. Drawing the knife from her coat on instinct, she flipped it so that it was blade point down, just like Buffy had taught her. Very carefully she leaned around the corner to see a fight where a weapon like the one she had would have been completely useless.

She watched a tall and solid troll-ish creature in a death match with a pair of crow headed things that were even taller. Dawn probably would have fit in their socks without much trouble. The fight was intense and bloody, but the two attackers were handled, killed by the troll. She blinked as she watched the troll sag against a nearby wall even as an extremely angry goblin hurled insults she couldn't understand and broken pottery at the fallen giant.

Dawn felt a small stab of pity in her heart as she watched the troll's eyes begin to glaze over. Carefully, very, very, carefully, she picked her way over to where he had collapsed against the wall. She looked over at the pissed off goblin.

"Is there a hospital here?" she asked. "Or some kind of... I dunno, healer?"

The goblin stopped and looked at her. It hefted a piece of pottery in it's hands as it considered her. Dawn's eyes narrowed and she held out her hand. She'd just got the handle of this one but it was scary and effective. Green light played over the dagger in her hand and she threw it at the goblin only to have it disappear in mid air. The goblin's pale red skin blanched as the knife disappeared only to have it cut across his cheek from a completely different direction. A very small drop of red blood began to well up as it looked at her in shock. Dawn smiled her most saccharine smile.

"There, do I have your attention now? You can keep going if you want, that's okay."

It nodded mutely.

"Now, healer, hospital," she said in forceful monosyllables. "Where?"

"Nearrr the Atrrrium," it hissed. "The Grrreat Gates."

"The big one with the brass tree on it?" she asked. It nodded again.

"Thank you!" she said. She turned away from the goblin to pick up her dagger. Her face worked its way into a frown. She knelt down next to the fallen troll. "Never moved this much though. Could be tricky."

A clatter drew her attention and Dawn looked up from where she was kneeling to see another five of the crow headed guys come around the corner and look at her kneeling next to the fallen troll. It let out a hideous screech and pointed one long talon straight at Dawn. She gulped.

"Oh well," she said with a nervous laugh. "No time like the present."

She gathered her power up and touched her hand to the troll's forehead. The two of them vanished in a flash of green light. Their reappearance caused a great deal of commotion. A ton of troll landing on the stones with an echoing thud, being surfed by a fifteen year old girl was odd, even for the Brooklyn Troll Market. Dawn looked up and scanned the completely silent crowd that was staring at her with their undivided attention.

"Uh... heh," she laughed nervously. She shakily raised her hand. "Is there a doctor in the house, er, the plaza, thingy?"

0oooo0oooo0

"He will live," the healer said. It had been a somewhat nerve wracking hour as the fae doctors had attempted to save the troll's life. In the end it had come down to amputating his arm. The healer before her was somewhat drawn looking, but he looked confident. "Though he will need a new arm."

"That's a bum wrap," Dawn sighed. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"It is a small price to pay for his life," another voice interjected. Dawn looked over her shoulder and her eyes widened in some surprise as a man walked in who couldn't be described as anything other than a Tolkien Elf dressed in thick black robes with a holster for something over his shoulder whose handle she could see. A Tolkien Elf who'd gotten into a fight with a batch of extremely inventive barbed wire.

The man's pale skin was covered in scars that she could see and more that she couldn't from a near immortal lifetime of combat. His eyes were the yellow slitted orbs of a prowling hunter cat, and his black lips were somehow caught in a perpetually sour expression. He appraised Dawn just as she did him and his posture and expression changed in an instant. There is nothing quite as disconcerting as an immortal and jaded being unaccustomed to any kind of shock being caught entirely off guard.

"Outsider," he whispered. Dawn narrowed her eyes at him.

_One among their number rode his stallion faster and further than the rest, darting ahead and behind the Forest King. His laughter and fierce joy in the visceral thrill of the hunt were unmatched by any around him. He danced in her glittering wake as they rode across the heavens, daring to come closer than his father had, proud and strong in his youth, as impulsive as the other half of his soul was demure and riding reluctantly at the back of the Wyld Hunt._

She felt a sad smile flit across her face as the ancient memories tried to reconcile themselves with the girl she now was and the visage of the haunted man in front of her.

"Time hasn't been kind to you Nuada," she whispered. "Has it?"

"No," he said after a moment of collecting his calm. "I would say that it has not."

The doctor left then, realizing perhaps that anyone who could refer to the Prince in Exile in such a personal and disrespectful way and not die instantly for the affront was the kind of person he wanted to be quite far away from.

"This body," Nuada began, looking at her once more, his eagle eyes seeing what others could not. She sighed when he decided not to continue.

"It was to protect me," she said finally. She looked around. "Maybe we could talk somewhere with thicker walls. I don't want this to get back to someone who might use it to hurt my friends. Enough people have done that already."

Nuada slowly nodded. "Would my sanctum be sufficient?"

"I have your word on safe passage?" Dawn prompted. "I know your word is good."

"You do," Nuada said. "If only in gratitude for saving the life of a dear friend."

They left, winding through the market as it began to close for the break of dawn. Mr. Wink rested where he was, under the fog of potions and magics that bound his form to sleep.


	3. Chapter 2 Deal Struck

Chapter 2: Deal Struck

The two of them wound their way through the dispersing crowds and back through the tunnel that Dawn had first entered the market through. From there they took another series of access tunnels beneath Manhattan, until they ended up in a series of passageways that opened onto the subway system on the Lower East Side. Throughout the trip Nuada was completely silent, only making the occasional motion with his hand to steer her in the correct direction. It was just as well. Dawn didn't really want to talk yet anyway.

The main entrance was an aged oak door that bore scuff marks of a long life, and had the embossed tree symbol set in a disk of darkened copper. The seal bore a very deliberate looking diagonal slash through the very center of it.

The door opened up into a single hallway with alcoves to each side, staggered at an interval of one every twelve feet of so. As they passed through, Dawn noticed that this space was much larger than she would have thought these tunnels could be. There were several rooms laid out in a very archaic style with faded tapestries and low couches with leather upholstery. Yet another room had what looked like a shrine of some kind, and there was a very old looking kitchen as well as what she thought to be a very large pantry. She caught a glimpse of an armory that would have made Buffy green with envy. Her breath hitched just a little at that thought.

Finally the tunnel opened out into what could be called an atrium. The vaulted ceiling ended with a skylight in the form of what looked like a manhole cover with significant holes in it. To the left there was another shrine with candles around it, burning constantly and providing a bit of light along from the dim blue light from the subway passage lighting. Currently there were seating cushions scattered across the stone floor.

Nuada took a seat on a worn looking cushion and gestured for her to take the one opposite him She did after a moment of figuring out how tuck her awkwardly long limbs into the right shape. Finally she looked at him and he gave her a solemn nod.

"Once again, I have to thank you," he said. He folded his hands in his lap and gave her a slight nod. "Mr. Wink was an old and dear friend of mine. It would have been a shame if he had died."

"You're welcome," Dawn said with a small grin and a shrug. "I guess helping people just runs in the blood."

She looked down at her hand and clenched it, feeling the strong pulse pounding through her body. Summers' blood. Nuada seemed polite enough to let the silence continue for some time.

"When last we met," he spoke, breaking the quiet. "You had no such thing. How did you come to be as you are now?"

Dawn gave a bitter laugh and a smile. "They did it to protect me."

She trailed off and shook her head, marshaling her thoughts. She raised her hand and looked at Nuada through her fingers in the dim light.

"Have you ever heard of the Monks of Dagon?" she asked quietly. Nuada nodded, much to her surprise, so she pressed on. "They did it to... protect me. A Hell God, Ogdru Hem, called Glory, was exiled to Earth. She was looking for a way back."

"You," Nuada said with understanding. Dawn nodded.

"Yeah me," Dawn replied. She allowed a little green light to play along her hands as she turned them in front of her face. "They wanted to keep me out of her hands. Glorificus couldn't be allowed back to Quor-toth. It would destroy everything, bring all of this suffering and nastiness to so many people. It might even have unsealed the Great Dragon themselves."

"One of the Three of Quor Toth? You faced one of the Three?" Nuada asked with an expression of genuine surprise. Dawn laughed again.

"Oh I didn't do much of anything, except nearly get us all killed," she said bitterly. Dawn shook her head. She was getting ahead of herself. "The monks, they transformed me, using the Vampire Slayer's blood as a template. They made me a body and fourteen years of fake memories to go with it. They made me a whole new _life_. It must have been a hell of a spell. But I had no idea at all I was really the Key. I guess somewhere I knew, but I didn't have the words for it. I thought I was just a stupid teenage girl, obsessing over clothes and boys."

Dawn shook her head with a loud sigh. "Buffy, the Slayer, was my sister. She looked out for me, you know. She and all her friends too. But then bad things started happening. Glory was getting closer, she knew where I was roughly. I was in a place where the barriers were already weak, the Hellmouth of California. I probably stood out like a beacon there."

"Then people started digging," Dawn continued. "They figured it out, figured out that I was the Key. I was so confused when I heard it. I ran away, but Buffy found me anyway and took me home. My mother started dying then; she realized that I wasn't really her daughter. Even so she was kind to me before she died. Things just kept coming, and the Slayer's team just got more and more buried under it all."

She released a ragged sigh. "Finally Glory captured me. She started the ritual to breach the worlds with my blood. It was terrible. I could feel the drain. But Buffy showed up, beat the stuffing out of Glory's host body."

Nuada leaned back on his cushion when Dawn trailed off. "That is... impressive."

"Darn right it was," Dawn replied. "She left Glory a bleeding mess. Then she came up to rescue me. But it was too late, one of Glory's little minions stabbed me and everything started. It was... I dunno. It was the worst I'd ever felt. I _knew_ what was happening, and I knew the ritual. Once the blood started flowing, the blood had to stop in order to seal the rift to Quor-toth. I had to die to seal the rift; both my teenage body and the Key itself. Buffy, she made this decision, she wouldn't let me jump. She did instead, threw herself into the breach. Since the blood that I have is the same as hers, it sealed the rift to Quor-toth. I felt it... felt it rip her soul out of her body. I could _feel_ my own powers rip her soul out!"

Dawn couldn't hide the tears now, and she took another minute to compose herself. "Something... something about all that jostled the monk's spell loose. I could remember things; things I'd seen and done, things I was capable of doing. I was so sad, but I was mad too. Real mad. I jumped to where Glory's host was and snapped his neck. Killed her and the man she possessed too."

Nuada looked impressed, and he gave her a tight smile. "A fitting end for such a monster. I approve."

"I didn't kill her because I wanted vengeance," Dawn said. Nuada raised an eyebrow at her and Dawn smirked ever so slightly. "Okay, maybe just a little. But more than that I just... I just wanted to make all of it stop. I wanted to make sure she'd _never_ hurt anyone again. So I did."

Dawn wrapped her arms around legs as she brought them to her chest. "After the... the funeral, I told the others that I had to go. I needed to find strength. Strength like what Buffy had."

Nuada was silent for a moment, and the sound of dripping water somewhere was the only source of noise. Then he tilted his head to the side, giving her a measuring glance. "Why do you need to find this strength?"

"The last thing she said to me," Dawn whispered after a long stretch of silence. "Was 'take care of them. Take care of each other. Live for me.'"

"The thing is, I don't think that we could go on without her. She was the strength of the group. It's like there's this huge Buffy shaped hole, and no one to fill it at all," She raised her head and gave Nuada a long look. She raised her arm and green lightning played across it. "I have power. But I don't understand how to use it in this body. I may not be Buffy, but she gave me her last order, even if she didn't know it. I'll do what I can to fill that hole. I'm not perfect, but I can help. That's why I need strength. And I need it sooner rather than later. I don't know how long they can keep tabs on the Hellmouth as is."

Nuada seemed to contemplate this for a long time, finally nodding at her. "I understand more now. Though I loathe most humans, I will admit that her bravery in doing this was impressive. A noble sacrifice for her people and this world. You have my thanks daughter of the Slayer. Without such a sacrifice, we would have felt the edge of their invasion just as much as you would."

"Still," Nuada continued, looking thoughtfully into the distance. "To gain that kind of strength in a few month's time to rival a Slayer, even with your powers, would be quite a stretch. It would be most difficult for you to do so."

"No ideas huh?" Dawn asked with a watery grin. Nuada shook his head.

"Oh, I have one or two," he said. Dawn perked up at this, listening intently. Nuada gave her a death's head grin. "It will not be easy Divish-nal. It would require a great many different things, and would be a great drain on my time. I could not help you without a significant trade."

Her timeless core somehow knew that the Fae were creatures of bargains and pacts. Their nature was such that there was precious little they would ever do for free. It was simply against their nature to do so. Dawn tried to think.

"Hm," she said. "Well, is there anything that you need found? I'm pretty good and finding things. Key powers and all that."

For a moment Nuada frowned. Then, ever so slowly, he began to smile. Dawn almost started feeling nervous at the width of it. "Yes there is something; a family heirloom lost many years ago due to foolishness. This would be an acceptable trade should you be able to discern its place."

"Okay," Dawn said. "So, you make me the equal of a Slayer within three months and I find this...?"

"A piece of the crown of Beth-Morae," Nuada finished. Dawn leaned back thoughtfully. Perhaps this was where she needed to be. She certainly couldn't think of many other beings who would be bound by their word to such things. She leaned back on her cushion.

"Alright then," she said. "You will make me the equal of a Slayer within three months and I find you the piece of the crown you are looking for. Now, I'm not gonna go get it, you understand? I don't want to be breaking into anyone's house or anything like that."

"The location alone would be more that sufficient," Nuada replied raising his hands in a placating gesture. "And I will require your full cooperation to do what you asked."

"This won't include any funky blood rituals will it?" Dawn asked. "Kinda not interested in that, if you understand."

"Oh I do," Nuada replied with a nod. "No, though there will be magic. Magic to dilate time, to pass through a year in a day. This will give me all the time that I require, given the powers of your own blood and the power of the Key within you. You will learn more quickly than a normal human could possibly learn."

"Alright," Dawn said. She mentally crossed her fingers. "It's a deal."

She extended her long fingered hand, and Nuada grasped her forearm with a huge grin.

"A deal."

0oooo0oooo0

The preparations were intensive. The ritual required an area to be sealed off from time such that it could be used for the allotted time. This was more complicated than it seemed. The seals for example had to extend to things like the plumbing; there was a need for water and to get rid of waste. Thankfully Nuada's sanctum was connected both to a huge junction in the sewer main and an even larger cistern for stored water. While he spent his time preparing the spell bubble, Dawn spent her time shopping. A lot of time shopping frankly.

People rarely got everything that they were going to eat for an entire year all at once. The good news was that the Prince knew several merchants who could obtain what they needed. Several of Nuada's rooms were converted over into temporary storage areas for all of the food and other consumables that were needed. However, the merchants covered it all. Dawn still had to do some of the shopping herself. She'd found the surest way to get an extremely crazy look at a drug store was to buy them out of feminine hygiene products all at once.

She was quick enough on her feet to claim she worked as an errand girl for a large NYU Sorority, but still it was embarrassing. However, after more than a few red faced and stuttering explanations and many trips to the surface, their stockpiles were completed.

There was also the rather complicated matter of Mr. Wink. Once he'd awakened, the two of them had gone to visit him. Nuada had explained that she'd brought him to the hospital, and much later at his sanctum who she really was. That realization had induced a very comical expression as Mr. Wink's squinty eyes widened until they looked like they'd pop out of his head.

A goblin who specialized in custom limb replacements had over the course of two weeks forged a magical clockwork forearm out of steel and hundreds of moving gears. Attached to his arm the device looked crude, but was nearly as dexterous as his original. That wasn't really saying that much, but Mr. Wink seemed happy with it. Dawn wasn't exactly sure what 'special features' had been built into it, but she'd seen at least one. Mr. Wink had taken it upon himself that day to try some target practice. The street they were on was deserted, and they were almost back to the tunnels. He'd like up his fist at a wall a few yards away and suddenly the metal hand shot out, shattering the bricks and re-bar with a contemptuous ease. The chain on the end of it, reeled the fist back in, and he'd turned to her stunned expression and given her a gruff nod and a smile.

She hadn't really asked him exactly what else the hand could do. She wasn't really all that sure she wanted to know.

In all that time, he'd been extremely deferential to Dawn and seemed to have taken it upon himself to watch over her. It was almost funny, watching the giant troll follow around the slender girl as she ran her errands. His glamour cloaked him from normal mortal eyes, and caused the majority of them to simply swerve around him. Those who were able to see him were by and large smart enough not to even bother with a second look.

His behavior did bother Dawn just a little. He seemed very grateful to her for what she did, but by week four he was passing through gratefulness and moving towards stalker-ness. She'd asked Nuada about it when they were alone.

"You mean he hasn't mentioned it?" Nuada asked with a surprised look. Dawn scowled.

"Mentioned what?" Dawn shot back. "He hasn't told me anything. In fact, I'm not even sure he _can_ talk."

"Oh, Mr. Wink can speak," Nuada said. He shrugged his shoulders. "Perhaps he simply thought that you would find it to be self-evident. Your ignorance of our ways is not your fault. You've had precious little time to adjust to them after all. Tell me, how do our people interact with one another?"

"Everything is a bargain," Dawn replied instantly. "A pact or a deal."

"Correct," Nuada said with a smirk. "So then, what would be of equal worth to a life?"

"Well a bunch of things I guess," Dawn said. She scrunched her nose in deep thought. "But probably at the very least a life... Oh you have _got_ to be kidding me!"

"Not in the slightest," Nuada said. His smirk was growing. "He owes you his life; a debt that he must repay with a life."

"Oh my god," Dawn whispered. "How long will he follow me around?"

"Until he thinks his job is done," Nuada said with a shrug. "And the debt is repaid. Some time, I imagine. Don't worry, I've added another large delivery to our stocks to take into account Mr. Wink's participation. His section of the tunnels connects directly to my own, and that will give us more space for training. Space that we will need if we're to achieve your goal."

Dawn nodded once hesitantly. The idea of being cooped up with a troll and the extremely dark Nuada for an entire year was a bit much for her to stomach all at once. What if Mr. Wink got hungry? She shuddered a little. Still, the troll owed her a life; he wouldn't eat her and she was pretty sure that Mr. Wink _couldn't_ eat Nuada, even if he wanted to. She shook herself out of her stupor. Of well, at least she would have good people to test herself against. That would help, right?

"Alright," Dawn said. She frowned thoughtfully "Is everything else ready?"

"It took more than three weeks, but yes, the way is prepared," Nuada said. Dawn pulled out a wallet picture fold and looked at a pair of pictures. One was the whole gang, the other was just her and Buffy. She smiled a little.

"I need to make a phone call before we go under," Dawn said. "I need to let them know I'm alright."

"They will not miss you any more," Nuada pointed out. Dawn shrugged.

"Yeah, but I'll miss them," she replied. "It won't take long."

"Very well," Nuada said. "Mr. Wink and I shall await your return with baited breath."

Ignoring the Prince's sarcasm, Dawn made her way through the tunnels and to the surface. She found a pay phone easily enough and stepped inside. Carefully, she pulled out a pile of coins and put them into the phone one after another. She punched the number in and her finger hesitated over the very last button. Last chance to back out Summers, she thought to herself. She let out a sharp breath and pressed the final key. The phone rang three times before a very enthusiastic woman picked up.

"Magic Box, your neighborhood occult supply store!" a cheerful voice called. Dawn smiled just a little.

"Hey Anya," she said. "It's Dawn."

"Dawn?" Anya squawked. "Are you okay? You haven't been kidnapped by a sex cult or anything have you? Because I'm not going to pay any ransom money, or anything to treat any diseases you've picked up."

Dawn couldn't suppress the laugh this time. "I'm fine Anya. I just... I just wanted to let you guys know that I'm okay and that I'll be home pretty soon. Maybe a month more at the most. I'll be sure to call and keep you guys updated."

"Wait!" Anya called out. "Willow and Giles are going to be frantic. This is going to be _such_ a mess. They're right around the corner on a coffee run."

"Well," Dawn replied. "Then tell them later. I have a copy of the _Daedalus_ _Codex_ in it for you if you do..."

"You got a copy of the _Codex_?" Anya cried out. "How did you do that? Steal it? I'm all for stealing you know, unless you get caught. Bail money is expensive and I'm running a tight ship right now. You aren't calling from prison are you?"

"No," Dawn shook her head in mild exasperation. "I'm calling from Manhattan. Anyway, take care of each other until I get back okay?"

"But there's some stuff you need to know!" Anya said. "Willow's been working on a spell to bring Buffy back. She's had me hunting for an urn of Osiris. Think I may have a lead, but I don't know yet."

"She's going to raise Buffy from the _dead?_" Dawn asked slowly. Anya made a vague sound of assent on the other end of the line.

"Well, she's going to try," Anya temporized. "Really hard stuff, and powerful too. We need to find the ingredients."

She had to admit part of her soul leaped to hear there was even a chance of bringing her sister back. But the other part of her, the ancient part, was making her stomach feel queasy with the wrongness of it all.

"Are things really that bad?" Dawn asked.

"Probably worse," Anya said with a nonchalant air. "I know they've got the Buffy-bot running full out these days, but more and more demons seem to be showing up. Must be that 'almost-gate' to Quor-Toth or something. I can't really feel it anymore. But there's that. Giles has been all mopey; it's been bad for business, I can tell you that. Tara and Willow are worried about keeping the bot going and worried about what happened to you. Xander is worried about getting into my pants, not like that was very hard for him to do, well except when he..."

"Anya!" Dawn cried out incensed. "TMI, I mean really. No more Xander/Anya sex life tidbits please. Just tell everyone that I'm okay and that I love them. I'll be back soon."

"Fine," Anya said. She sounded like she was going to say more so Dawn said hurried goodbyes and hung the phone up. She dimly noticed that she was hyperventilating, her chest rising and falling far too fast. As her vision began to go black, she finally managed to settle herself a little.

"Even if you were there," she said to herself once her breathing was regular again. "You still wouldn't be able to help. It's better this way. It has to be."

Yet, even as she descended to the under-city, she could feel how hollow that sounded in her own ears. She pushed it aside. When this was over, then she would be back, with a vengeance.

She hoped.

0oooo0oooo0

The day of the ritual all three of them were settled in the atrium that faced out towards the train tracks. The ground before them was covered in interlocking symbols whose origin was alien to Dawn. It looked nothing like the magic that she'd seen Willow use before. The script was completely different, the diagrams themselves were of another kind. Candles were laid out in simple brass trays at set intervals, and the tiny fountain behind them set into the wall bubbled a little.

The ritual was time sensitive, and had to be performed at the Summer Solstice. Something about hiding a year in the longest day or something like that. Dawn really didn't understand the technical details and Nuada wasn't really forthcoming about them. Still, here they were, sitting as the sun was scheduled to rise at any moment. The Prince was the one who began to sing when the final candle was lit by the lighter that he had given to Dawn.

She watched as pale white light flared around Nuada' hands while he chanted. The language was beautiful and haunting, a song unlike anything she'd heard as a human. The power flared from Nuada to the various inlaid symbols causing the dark ink mixed with blood to glow white, one section after another. As the chant seemed to reach a climax a racing train came down the tunnel. There was a brilliant flash that stunned her for several seconds and then she was looking at the train. The train that appeared to be completely frozen. Nuada smiled a little as he slumped, panting for breath.

"That was quite difficult," Nuada exhaled. Dawn nodded mutely as she stared at the frozen passengers just a few yards away, yammering away on their cell phones. Mr. Wink seemed duly appreciative of the Prince's efforts as well. He offered a hand to the Prince as he stood off, but Nuada waved it off. "I will be fine. I must rest for the remainder of the day. However tomorrow Dawn Summers your training starts. I hope you're ready."

"I'm not afraid," Dawn said, tearing her gaze away from the frozen New York commuters to face her teacher. Nuada smiled at her, and his response made chills run down her spine.

"You will be," he said, as he turned to walk away. "You will be."

He couldn't have seen that movie... could he? That would be impossible...


	4. Chapter 3 The Son of Balor the Great

Chapter 3: The Son of Balor the Great

The first week was the hardest on her emotions. He pushed her in that week, pushed her so far and so fast that she was sure she would break. Only her promise to her sister and a perverse desire to stab Nuada through the face kept her going. She would only get food and water when she completed the tasks he set. Some were quite understandable ("Do thirty push ups and thirty sit ups. Now.") but others were much less so ("Balance only on the ball of your left foot while you read a chapter of this book.").

He challenged her in every way possible. He humiliated her, insulted her family and friends. He would taunt her with her own inadequacies and mocked her impotent rage, turning it against her. She thought he was an evil bastard. Maybe he was; but after a month of this, she realized something. Somewhere along the way the raw emotions; the burning hate she felt for Glory and herself, the pain at the loss of Buffy and Joyce, the fear she had for the others, all of it cooled.

Dawn no longer burst into tears when she was disarmed or ended up face down on the floor. Instead she got up again and gripped her practice implement even more tightly. Anger gave way to determination as Nuada impersonally stripped her down, exposing her weaknesses. It was agonizing.

"You blame yourself for the Slayer's death?" Nuada asked, walking around her and twirling a leaf-bladed dagger in his hand with a nonchalant ease.

"Yeah," Dawn wheezed. She stood as straight as she was able to, her hand clutching at bruised ribs as she glared at the circling prince.

"How quaint," Nuada spat. "So then you demean her sacrifice?"

"What? No!" Dawn snapped back, confusion on her face.

"Well," Nuada mused. "If it was irrevocably your fault that she died, then her sacrifice wouldn't really mean anything would it? After all if you could stop it all then it would be meaningless wouldn't it? You could just seal away the tear in the dimensions, and be on your merry way. Why aren't you then?"

Dawn was silent, but Nuada's smile was growing by the second. He leaned closer, the blue lights from the skylight above and the orange flickering candles painted his pale skin in an eerie assemblage of color and shadow.

"It isn't your fault that Buffy died," Nuada whispered. "It's hers."

Dawn screamed and lunged at him. Her first blow was towards his head which he blocked with casual ease, but her second strike hit his hip. He simply spun with the impact, dancing back out of reach.

"It was her choice, wasn't it?" Nuada asked. "Her gift to you, eh? Her _death_."

Dawn lunged. This time she got off three strikes before he swept her legs out from underneath her and she collapsed on her back, stilling as the ice cold blade of Nuada's spear touched her throat.

"It was her choice," Nuada repeated. He sneered at her. "She died to save your life, your essence. Prove to me that your worth it. Prove it to _her._ Accept what she did for you instead of mewling like a spoiled kitten. Accept that what your sister mother did for you was her choice and her will and thank her for that gift of death. Or you really _will_ be worthless trash."

The spear had been pulled back and Dawn slowly rocked over. There were still tears in her eyes, but there was also determination and her mouth was set in a grim line as she pushed herself up. Nuada smirked and re holstered his spear.

"Good," Nuada said. "You've passed one pain into another. It is time to begin your true training."

0oooo0oooo0

The 'true' training was bad enough that it almost made her wish for the first training. She realized that he'd been working her up to this. The constant exercises and balance were all things required to teach her how to fight his way, the way of someone who will never be as strong as their opponent but will always be one step ahead of them.

Nuada had a brutal sense of timing, able to strike at her from any direction at once, always flowing from one strike to another. Dawn learned the basic hand movements of his personal style over the first two months, most of her time spent dodging the wicked tip of his ancestral spear. Razor thin cuts would blossom on her skin every time she was not quick enough on her feet or overextended herself when she dodged.

"Minimize your profile," he snapped, bringing his spear around again and slicing into the skin of her chest. A week into this Dawn had abandoned all sense of modesty. She wore only shorts and sports bra. Is she were wearing anything else it would just get shredded by the end of Nuada's spear.

She jerked around, moving quickly and barely allowing the net spear strike to thrust where her belly had once been. Her arm came down and wrapped around the haft of the spear, so Nuada simply let go of it, and stepped inside her guard.

"A weapon is only as dangerous as the warrior," he said with a calm smirk. His open palm strike doubled her over and the leg sweep put her on her back on the rough stone beneath her. She looked up at Nuada who narrowed his sulfur yellow eyes. He extended his hand to her. "Again."

She began to be able to weave around his attacks just as he wove around her own motions. After two months they began to move around one another almost like a choreographed dance. It was beautiful to watch; and had painful consequences if Dawn failed to dodge his relentless blows. She learned to fight with blood running into her eyes, exhausted and pouring sweat. She even became somewhat proficient at ground fighting to keep Nuada from impaling her when she was knocked off her feet.

The remainder of her time was spent meditating and mastering the powers within herself. She had sealed her wounds once reflexively with her power. She tried it again on the many small cuts and bruises that she acquired. After two weeks of effort, she found that her source could seal her wounds with some concentration.

Also, under the enthusiastic tutelage of Nuada and Mr. Wink, she began to learn just how fast she could blink from place to place in the short term. The answer turned out to be very fast. After months of being knocked around by vicious assaults from the both of them, she was able to move between points as a reflex.

She practiced her ability to influence gravity by gently lifting scrolls and reading them without using her hands. By the fourth month she was up to holding five of them at a time while reading.

At first she missed her family terribly. There was a sort of homesickness that caught up to her now that she wasn't moving around nearly as much as she had on her quest to find this place. However, exhaustion, both mental and physical, kept her from thinking of them too much. Every night when she curled up in her worn bunk she would pull out the picture of the Scoobies and her sister and mother. She would briefly send them her love, then collapse into a dreamless sleep. The exhaustion kept the nightmares away. She didn't dream of Buffy throwing herself off of metal towers after the first week.

She learned fast. Even Nuada was impressed by the speed with which she took in information. She had always had good grades, but it was the first time someone she hadn't known all her life had truly acknowledged her intelligence. He had her read scrolls of Fae lore and politics, grilling her on their contents while he tried to turn her into a pile of blood soaked rags with the end of his spear.

When the first day of the sixth month came around, the rules changed once more.

0oooo0oooo0

She hit the stone with a thump, her breath knocked from her body.

"Is that all you have?" Nuada hissed. "Is that all that the mighty daughter of the Slayer has to offer us? Pathetic. No better than human trash."

She heard him step up closer to her and lower his spear tip towards the ground. She smiled through bruised and battered lips, blood clotting on a split. No maldor, this was not all she had to offer. Not by a long shot. Her long legs shot out and tangled Nuada's ankles causing him to wobble ever so slightly. Dawn reached out and grabbed her practice spear and with a desperate strength slammed the haft into the Prince's chest.

He folded around the blow, like a whisper on the wind, absorbing the impact and sliding back along the underground floor. He grinned at her.

"I thought you were better than that," Nuada called out. He gave her a smile full of a great many pointed teeth. "There may be promise in you yet child."

He paused and retracted his own weapon, holstering it over his shoulder. He beckoned to her and he turned away to walk down the hall. Clutching her spear, and careful to not let the 'blade' touch the ground she followed. She did not need another repetition of the 'weapon handling and respect' lecture from Nuada. It hurt enough the first time.

"It is time," he proclaimed as he stopped in front of the oak door to the armory. He pushed it open and deliberately walked inside.

Mystified, Dawn followed him into the armory. She had only seen the interior of the armory a few times, but it dazzled her. Weapons that belonged in myth rested in this simple room, polished and on display. She walked to where Nuada was standing, next to a rack for spears like his own. He gestured down. Two weapons rested on the weapon rack, with a third set of empty pegs, probably for the weapon he carried over his shoulder.

"Before the Great War with Man, a human and a goblin artisan combined their talents to create a set of weapons that were worthy of royalty," the Prince said. He reached down and hefted the weapon on the middle rack. It was bronze and wrapped leather just as his own, the blade just as keen and shining in the dim light. However, the scenes depicted on the haft were different from those on Nuada's. Instead of scenes of hunts and war, it had scenes of a great city, bustling with life and depictions of creatures that she couldn't even name. "Three spears for three nobles."

"This weapon," he said, twirling it in his hand. "Was created in honor of someone who would never wield such a thing. It was thought that it would go to her husband when she married; she never did. She is a gifted empath, no more capable of violence than I am of peace. This weapon was made for my Nuala's Champion; my sister's warrior representative. Of course, she never exercised the right to name one."

He looked at Dawn and flipped the weapon over his forearm and handed it to her. "This is the sacred spear of the Champion of Nuala. You are a woman my sister would admire, I think. Take it; from this day forward it is yours."

Dawn accepted the weapon with careful hands. It was perfectly balanced her hands, and it twirled effortlessly as she spun it around. It shone in the light, and to her eyes it was almost glowing. The figures in their city seemed alive beneath her hands, toiling and working, the household of the Elven Princess. It felt... alive.

She finished her whirling kata and straightened from her extended lunge. She looked at Nuada and shook her head. "I can't take this."

"You will take it," Nuada interrupted. His voice was surprisingly gentle, but there was steel behind the words. "What you have offered to obtain for me is something of incredible value, worth a thousand of these blades or more. You will accept my gifts when I give them to you. They are part of what will make you stronger and more capable. They are part of our bargain."

That shut her up quickly. The one thing she'd learned in her study of the Fae was that breaches of a bargain of this magnitude was a one way ticket to getting speared. She simply closed her hands over the handle of the weapon and watched as Nuada smiled.

"Good," he said. He reached down and picked up a black leather shoulder holster, slightly lighter in make than his own, and tossed it to her with a deft snap of his wrist. "This is yours as well. Put it one and we will raise the stakes."

She fitted it over her slender chest. As she tightened the straps across her waist and upper back she marveled at the feeling of her own hands. Spear callouses covered them and they were almost scratchy against the smooth skin of her belly. Nuada walked over to her and adjusted the straps once or twice and gave her a gruff nod, his lank blonde hair falling into his face.

"Good," he said. Once more he beckoned to her and the two of them stepped into the atrium once more. He gestured to the weapon in her hand. "Now let us see if the two of you truly have what it takes to move together as one."

"How do I do that?" Dawn asked.

"Let it become part of you," Nuada said. He gestured to the ugly scar across forehead. "It requires a sacrifice of blood to awaken the weapon. A sacrifice of something; they prefer beauty most of all."

"I have to cut my face?" Dawn said in surprise.

"You're the one who wished to be the equal of a Slayer. I cannot lie to you; I am bound by oath. This will in fact give you another edge, one of many you must cultivate."

He gestured to a mirror set into one rocky wall to the side. "It will guide you if you wish to awaken it. I will leave you here for the rest of the night. What you do is your own concern."

And with that he was simply gone. She wondered how the hell Nuada did that. Must be some freaky elf thing. She looked at her own expression in the mirror; she hadn't honestly looked at herself in almost six months. The changes shocked her.

Her long hair was no longer the same Pantine smooth that it had been before. She'd stopped bothering to condition it once Buffy died. Now she tied it back in a high ponytail to keep it out of her face, unlike the Prince who seemed to hide behind his silver-blonde hair. Her body was covered in tiny scars from her training, so faint that you'd only notice them under extremely intense lights. Her face was much the same, but her body was harder, lither. Her baby fat had faded and her muscles had bulked up. It was like she'd once been a pampered house cat and now she was a tigress. The eyes that had once been clear and blue, now had green striations, and every so often green light would flash beneath them, almost invisible to the naked eye.

God, she looked like Buffy; and that thought really didn't hurt as much as she was afraid it would. She smiled at her reflection.

"Hope you would be proud of me Buff," she whispered. She looked over at the spear in her hand and flipped it around. The silver edge seemed to hum a little as she brought it up and looked at it. The spear's haft was warm in her hands, almost alive.

"It always comes down to blood, doesn't it," Dawn said with a small smile. She closed her eyes, clenching the blade in her hand. "Once I did this because I lost the faith. Thought I was less than human. Now I do it to keep the faith; to keep the promise that I made and the last thing you asked me to do. I guess a poet would like this. Good dramatic moment, huh."

She brought the blade up and relaxed her mind. She pressed it to the left side of her face, exactly in the middle of her left eyebrow and drew the blade down. The edge felt hot, a burning trail down the side of her face, scarring her and cauterizing the wound in a single motion. She was so surprised at the feeling that she would have dropped the weapon, if her hand hadn't snapped out at the last moment and caught the descending weapon in a perfect one handed grip.

She opened her eyes and looked down. The spear looked no different; but it felt different. Before it had been perfectly balanced. Now it was more than that; it was an extension of her will. A part of her. She smiled, even though the movement of skin around her face hurt a little. The scar still pained her, but it already looked old. It extended from one inch above her eyebrow to two inches below her eye. It looked... like it was a part of her too. In fact it looked pretty badass, she thought.

With a snap of her wrist she pointed the spear towards the open air with a focused expression. The Spear of the Nuala extended its haft to match. She spun in a series of katas and the spear responded. Everything was different with this weapon... her grip adjusted itself without conscious thought, faster than she'd ever done before. The smile became a full blown grin as she whirled the weapon around her.

Dawn's spear screamed around her in a blur of mithril and bronze, and any who would have seen that moment of perfected motion couldn't have called it anything other than the perfect dance.

0oooo0oooo0

She would never forget the first time Nuada truly stabbed her with his weapon. It had been only a few days after she had chosen her spear, or it had chosen her. It was unremarkable in and of itself. He'd just gotten inside her defenses and pierced her right through the stomach without so much as blinking. She'd lurched to the side with almost uncomprehending eyes, but he'd continued the assault. If she'd had anything other than the Fae weapon, she probably would have died. As it was she was able to defend herself until he knocked her against the cobblestones hard enough to jar her teeth.

"You must learn to fight with pain, through pain," Nuada said. She glared up at him from where she laid against the wall, leaking blood and god knew what else from her stomach wound. He looked at her speculative way. "Perhaps you should heal that Divish-nal. Stomach wounds are terribly messy."

Her power flared through her and the tears in her body mended slowly. Nuada had just grinned at her. Then it had gone downhill from there. After that he hadn't bothered to give her time to heal, she just had to do it on the fly. She learned two things from this: one, pain was life in combat, get over it, and two don't get hit. Really.

As the weeks wore on she became faster and faster. Nuada and Mr. Wink seemed to be of the opinion that something in her latent slayer blood was showing. She wasn't really that much stronger, but her reflexes were gaining at an incredible rate. While she might not be able to move out of the way of certain strikes, she more often than not could actually see the strikes coming and prepare accordingly. Nuada was still faster than her, and had millenia of experience, she was still faster than any human and though crude in comparison, she was just as vicious. Then she'd discovered how to do a combat teleport.

It had happened rather suddenly, but she realized as a strike was descending towards her that she really didn't want to get hit this time. Then she was behind Nuada, and scored the first strike that she'd ever really landed on him, slamming the butt of her spear into his ribs. He'd exhaled with a woof of air, and danced outside her range, but she'd broken through the barrier. Soon, fighting Dawn at anything other than her optimal striking range was nearly impossible. If you were to fend her off from the front, she would simply appear behind you. If you pushed in too close, she would suddenly be another two feet away from you without breaking stride.

Her Key powers allowed her to even odds she'd despaired of ever evening, and their fights now tended to be as bizarre as they were skillful. Often times the fights would occur on just about every surface imaginable in the atrium. Dawn would duck under one strike only to lunch at Nuada from a pillar that was almost directly behind him. Usually from three to six feet in the air.

As their spars became more even, Nuada decided to make things more 'interesting'. Even though Mr. Wink had an obligation to protect her, he showed very little hesitation in trying to flatten her in a sparring match. It was fascinating to Dawn the difference between her two opponents that she fought separately and occasionally together (those days sucked). Her normal blows couldn't even hurt Mr. Wink, with the sole exception of the Spear of Nuala. A single hit from Mr. Wink was a fight ender for her. However, he couldn't hit her due to her speed and tendency to teleport when things got dicey, and she could wail on him all day without him much caring.

This usually meant that the victor (or victrix) was the one who ended up tricking the other one. It was a hell of a challenge for both of them. One that both of them enjoyed, though neither cared much to admit it.

Her studies into her own nature were also more complete. She found that the more that she used the power within her, the more it affected her physical body. At first, only her eyes had been affected by the power, but now the skin around her hair was beginning to show tiny flecks of green, and streaks of green began to weave through her hair. Her eyes were now a piercing emerald, and her body was more resilient than it had been, adapting somehow to the brutal conditions that she was subjected to.

Her fine control of her telekinesis had improved to the point that she could control a large number of objects at once. Along with the changes to her ability to teleport, and the focused meditations, she was more capable than she'd ever thought she could become. It was amazing what a full year of training could do for a girl.

The final turning point came when she bested both of them in one fight. Now, it was true Mr. Wink was holding back a little and Nuada was holding back a lot, but she'd managed to surprise both of them with a wave of flying knives and axes that held both of them inches away from being decapitated.

Instead of rage or veiled amusement, Nuada had given her a genuine smile.

"You have achieved your goal," he said simply. "The bargain is almost complete."

"Almost?" Dawn asked. Nuada nodded.

"Stay here and meditate," he recommended. So she folded her legs beneath her. Time passed, she wasn't truly sure how much, but she heard the shuffling sound of Mr. Wink enter the room. She opened her eyes and regarded him with a fond smile.

"He wants me now huh?" she asked. Mr. Wink gave her a knowing nod and she exhaled slowly. "Alright then, let's go."

They walked into the armory and there Nuada stood dressed in a something that she'd never seen before. It was full armor, polished black breastplate and bracers over a thick mesh of some kind. At his stomach there was a seal, just like that of the door to the Troll Market, the tall tree set into a bronze disk. The loose pants beneath were made of the same sturdy mesh.

She had always though there was something regal about Nuada, but until she saw him in his full armor it hadn't really hit her in the face. He stared at her, clad only in her shorts and a sports bra and she felt strangely naked. He gestured to her.

"Lay aside your weapons," he said with a smile. "I have a final tool for you."

Dawn did as he asked, putting her spear and its holster down carefully. Nuada turned to a trunk behind him and pulled out an over mesh shirt and pair of pants much like his own. Her breath caught a little as he walked behind her and with gentle motions dressed her.

The shirt and pants went on first. Over them went a sash, and then a suit of armored plates, much like his own, save that they were a green so dark it was almost black. He gently cinched the straps closed with careful tugs, settling the armor over her. The bracers came next. Finally a belt, like his own. However, where his belt bore the symbol of the Lords of Faerie, hers bore a depiction of an ancient key, point down, set against a disk of stars.

"A fitting suit of armor for an Outsider," Nuada whispered. "Crafted solely for you and your essence. No mortal eye save the keenest will be able to discern its nature. The Glamour hides it from their unknowing eyes. The armor of Faerie is as much a part of the warrior as the spear."

He gently held her arm out and pricked her finger. A single drop of blood pooled there and Nuada guided her hand to the center of the seal on her belt. He pressed her finger against the brass key. She felt a moment of nausea, and then suddenly it felt as though she were wearing hardly anything at all. She looked up at him, her glowing grass green eyes locking with his, slitted and catlike.

"I always thought you were beautiful," Nuada smiled. Dawn blinked; from the nostalgia in his voice he wasn't talking about her current body. "Now the clothing fits the host."

A key in a field of stars; that was how he had first seen her, and at least a little of how he saw her now. She smiled just a little, and Nuada sighed.

"I have taught you everything that I have to teach to you at the moment. Now, experience must be your guide. Perhaps if the both of us are still alive in two hundred years, find me once more. I would enjoy seeing how far you've come. If you are diligent, you may be ready for the next level of what I can teach."

"Thank you," Dawn said, with a formal Elven bow. "Prince Nuada, son of Balor the Mighty."

"You are... welcome," he said. He looked over at Mr. Wink who nodded once. He gestured to her. "There is one last thing I wish you to see."

The three of them walked to the door of the sanctum and the shimmering distortion that had defined the boundaries of her life for the past year faded away like a morning mist. Gently Nuada opened the door and the three of the proceeded through the Manhattan tunnels. After climbing some kind of access ladder for a long time, finally they came to a hatchway that Nuada pushed aside easily.

They exited the passageways and stood on the roof of a tall building, under the open sky once again. A gentle rain was falling, little more than a mist. The sky was still dark, and the lights of the city still burned. Nuada pointed away.

"Watch," he said quietly. So she did. After a few minutes of silence, the gray in the distance broke apart and the wind blew her rain slicked hair away from her face. The sky continued to lighten as the clouds dispersed. She watched as the red sun began to rise in the distance, cresting the edge of the distant ocean in an explosion of color.

"You have a fitting name," Nuada said, staring at the rising sun. "A name of beginnings. I will give you another."

He turned to her and raised his hands. Silver light began to glow from his fingertips as he drew a very small symbol on her unblemished cheek. He took as step back.

"I name you Aurora," he said, royal might in every syllable. "Champion of the Dawn; Friend of the Fae."

"You came to me confused and weak, I bring you before the world changed and strong." He gestured towards the sun. "May Sol himself bear witness to this and sanctify it with his warmth and light."

At that moment the sun fully crested the horizon, bathing her in light and Dawn – Aurora, felt a sense of peace that she hadn't since before her mother died. She smiled and for the first time in a whole year tears slowly trailed down her face that had nothing to do with pain or fear or anger.

"Aurora," she whispered. "I think I like it."

"You should," Nuada said. "Mr. Wink suggested it, and I thought it fitting. Far more regal than what you go by now."

"True," she said. She turned to him and gave him a piercing look. Finally she tore her gaze away from him. "And I will do as you have asked, as our oath binds me to do."

She closed her eyes and extended senses that moved with a sharp focus, twisting through the city below her and the entire world at once. It was there... she could feel it. Nuada took a step back from her as her right hand began to glow with a green light so intense it rivaled the sun for a moment. Then it was gone, and Dawn opened her hand.

The golden segments of the segment of the Crown of Beth-Morae rested in her palm. Carefully Nuada picked it up and held it to the light. It glittered in the sunlight.

"It is as you asked?" Dawn prompted at his speechlessness. He turned to look at her and shook his head.

"It is done and more," Nuada said. He coiled the crown with extreme care into a pouch on his belt. "You have retrieved that which you only promised to find."

"I did not understand my own ability when I made that oath," Dawn replied. "This was the least I could do for you."

"If you say so," Nuada replied with a dubious look. "Then I shall accept it."

"Then thank you for everything," Dawn said. "I hope we can meet again as friends."

"I hope that as well Aurora," Prince Nuada said. The two bowed to one another. Dawn turned to Mr. Wink.

"I'm not going to get rid of you am I?" she asked jokingly. Mr. Wink shook his head and pointed to his tusks. She nodded. "I get it. All right, but you asked for it. Let me tell you a little about a little town called Sunnydale. The locals call it Sunnyhell, which is probably better name for it..."


	5. Chapter 4 City of Angel and Dragon

Chapter 4: City of the Angel and the Dragon

The man was well dressed, a fashionable suit, perhaps Armani. His eyes were the color of burnished gold, bright and metallic. He walked into the first floor of the Wolfram and Hart building, and not a single person took notice. In all frankness he fit right in.

He walked up to the front desk, where a wary security guard fixed him with a grim eye.

"Can I help you sir?" the guard asked carefully. The man smiled.

"Certainly," he said. "I'm looking for Ms. Lilah Morgan."

"Do you have an appointment?" the guard asked.

"No, but she's going to want to see me," the man said. The guard looked skeptical.

"I'm sorry, but I don't have anything on a Mr...?"

"Slade."

"...Slade here for Ms. Morgan at the moment. If you'd like to leave a message, I can deliver it for you."

"Hm," the man considered. "Alright. I guess you'll do."

A blazing spear of fire erupted from the man's outstretched hand, incinerating the guard instantly. Slade turned away from the smoking corpse of the guard and looked around.

"Lilah Morgan," the man growled, his well trimmed goatee seeming to smolder. "Where is my Key!"

Then the screaming started.

0oooo0oooo0

Angel was doing what Spike had once dubbed his "Batman" thing. The routine patrols weren't as bad in L.A. as they were in Sunnydale, but it was a big enough city that there were always creatures on the prowl. Tonight had been particularly uneventful. He supposed that he should be glad for it, but the need for pent up violence that he'd felt since Buffy had died wouldn't get an outlet tonight if something didn't show up.

He stopped in front of an alleyway when a sound reached his ears. Voices; multiple ones. He walked down the alleyway silently, using centuries of experience to fade into the shadows, growing closer to the source of the noise. They weren't trying to be particularly subtle.

"It isn't polite to bite people," a contralto claimed. It had a tone of sarcastic acceptance, and something about it was familiar.

"What are you going to do about it little girl?" a man growled. The telltale lisp of the 'game face' betrayed what the girl was facing. Angel pulled a stake silently from his jacked and twirled it in his hands. He heard another voice whimper; not the first girl.

The speakers were still mostly hidden from his view behind a nearby dumpster, but he could see the edge of the girl's outline from behind. She had long brown hair with slight blonde streaks in it, dressed in a black shirt and tight jeans. Angel could far more clearly see the face of someone he'd never thought would have made it to today. The face of his 'old friend', a bastard by the name of James. Angel had staked James' lover the other night. He must have just been on the hunt for food.

From the shifting of the two flunkies behind him, he seemed to have recruited a little help too. Looked like fledglings to Angel's experienced eye, but sometimes looks could be deceiving. Doing quick mental math, Angel cursed to himself.

The problem was that James was an experienced vampire, dangerous enough for someone expecting him. For a normal civilian this could be suicide. That wasn't even counting his two cohorts. Angel prepared to strike, holding the stake in tense hands. He didn't want this girl to get herself hurt, but the chances of her getting out of this unscathed looked small.

"I could do a lot of things," she said in a thoughtful voice, raising one arm, probably to put a finger to her lips. "But in a place like this, I ask what would my hero do?"

"And what is that?" James asked in an amused tone.

"Slay your butt," the girl said, sliding backwards. Her raised arm reached behind her, and the normal tank top and jeans shimmered in front of Angel's eyes. The shirt and jeans were gone, replaced with armor that gleamed a little in the poor light. The blonde in her hair was changed as well, becoming a deep green the color of healthy grass. The arm that reached behind her came back forward with a short looking spear that elongated as he watched.

She leaped at James who was as shocked as he was at the transformation. He was faster than her, but not by very much. He barely kept himself from being decapitated by the cutting edge of the weapon. Instead she opened a foot long gash on his chest. And she didn't stop there. James knocked aside the next thrust, but the girl simply allowed the force to move her weapon in a tight circle under James' arm and into his chest, barely missing his heart.

James hissed as she withdrew the blade and smacked him so hard across the face that he was knocked off his feet. He looked up at the slender girl in stunned amazement. Angel couldn't help but join him. The two other vampires hadn't even moved yet. They seemed too afraid to.

"Who... who are you?" James managed to speak. The girl shrugged under her greenish-black lacquered armor.

"A concerned citizen," she said. The girl brought her spear neatly downward and neatly separated James' head from his body. James exploded in a cloud of dust.

She turned to the remaining two vampires and shook her head.

"What _are_ we going to do with you?" she asked, her spear compressing down into a baton sized weapon again. She smacked the haft against her hand like a police baton in a keystone cop movie.

"Uh," one managed. "Let us go?"

"Hm," she mused. "Alright. I'll take your suggestion under advisement."

She reached down to her belt and took something pointy off of it. A stake, Angel realized. She hefted the weapon in her hand and threw it at high speed. It plunged into the stunned speaker's chest half way. He had just enough time to look down before he collapsed into a pile of dust. The sole remaining vampire was now cowering in his boots.

She turned her head, and Angel almost caught her profile in shadow. Green sparks began to play across her body. Her long hair transformed even further, glowing with green-white light, surrounding her and obscuring her features even more. She walked up the vampire and pointed her spear at his chest. Some kind of artificial wind was lifting her hair to float around her head like a halo and her voice sounded like a full church choir singing at once.

"I am Aurora," she said. "Champion of the Rising Sun. Tell your little friends that this town just got unfriendlier. If I catch you, next time I won't be as nice to you as I was to your friends. I can do much worse things to you than killing you. You're a demon; use your imagination. I'm sure you get the picture."

The vampire was nodding frantically. She leaned forward a little bit and her voice was a stage whisper. "This is the part where you start running and don't stop."

Getting hastily to his feet the vampire did just as she suggested, breaking into a crazy run to the other end of the alleyway. He kept looking over his shoulder at Aurora's glowing form, until he vanished from sight. She turned from looking at the vampire to whoever the vampires had been bothering.

"You really shouldn't go out at night if you aren't careful," she said in perfect harmony with herself. The hair floated free, away from her face, revealing a smiling face that would have made Angel's heart stop, if it still beat. This was... Dawn? Buffy's sister? It looked a lot like her, but there were differences. This girl was taller, more muscular. Her face was more angular and less smooth. It was a face, Angel realized, that had maturity forced upon it.

"I...I...I'll t-t-t-try to remember that," the woman said.

"I'm glad," Dawn, Aurora, whoever the hell this was, said. She turned her head slightly in his direction, and he looked into an eye that was glowing just as fiercely as her hair. "Liam. You know, you can't lurk if there aren't any shadows. Take care of this woman, would you? I think she'd like to go home. Don't worry about him ma'am. He's a good man; stupid a lot of the time, but a good man."

She turned away from the cowering woman as Angel stepped out of the shadows, and he watched as her hair ceased to shine, becoming brown with green streaks. Ignoring Angel and the woman she just saved, she started walking away, holstering the spear over her shoulder. The armor faded away to the black tank top and jeans, and she stuck her hands in her pockets.

"Why are you doing this?" Angel asked. The girl stopped.

"Because the woman that you left asked me to take care of the people that she loved the most," she said. She looked over her shoulder and without the light show it was clearly Dawn. An older, more grizzled looking Dawn, but Dawn none-the-less. "And I'm going to do it. For her and for all of them. I probably can't be half the girl she was, but I can try. Take care of yourself, alright?"

Angle nodded. "They're worried about you. Things are getting bad over there."

"I know," she replied. "And I'm going back soon, but not yet. Something's come up, and I'll be here for a few more days. I need to find someone."

"You should stop by the office," Angel said. He gave her a half-smile. "We actually are a decent detective agency these days. Cordy will help you. Well also have enough space to put you up while you're here."

"I haven't seen her in forever," Dawn said. She thought about it. "Literally. All right, I'll stop in. But no calling Willow. I don't want her mother-henning me yet."

"I promise," Angel said. Dawn narrowed her eyes and then nodded.

"See you later then," she said. Then she was gone. It wasn't that she walked out of the alley. She was literally gone; as if she'd simply vanished.

Angel knelt down next to the shivering woman, a professional looking sort who was probably in her thirties. Her shirt was slightly mussed, makeup smeared, and her hair was escaping from the ponytail she had it in. She looked at him in confusion and fear.

"What was that?" she asked.

"Honestly?" Angle asked. He turned to the empty alley where a newspaper was floating in the wind. "I have no clue."

0oooo0oooo0

"Angel Investigations," a bored brunette said. "We help the hopeless."

She listened for a minute to the man on the other end of the line. She pulled the phone back from her ear and stared at it in disgust. "As if. Like we'd help a creep like you."

She hung the phone up with an audible 'clang' and shook her head. "Why can't they all just be nice people who need a vampire staked or something?"

"Just as politic as ever, huh Cordy?" an alto voice prompted. It was coming out of the darkened alcove near the door.

"Oh!" Cordelia Chase said with a surprised blink. "I'm sorry, I didn't hear you come in Ms..."

"Summers," Dawn said, walking out of the shadowed corner. Cordelia's eyes widened at the sight of her. She was wearing the armor that Nuada had given her, which gleamed in the Hyperion's diffuse lighting. Her green tinged hair was loose and the corners of her grass green eyes were crinkled in a smile. "Aurora Summers."

A woman not much given to surprise, considering the crazy life she led, Cordelia Chase appeared to be completely speechless, her jaw hanging open. Her gaze seemed fixated on the scar over Dawn's left eye.

"Dawnie?" Cordelia asked after a second, composing herself as best she was able. "Is that you?"

"Yes, it's me," Dawn replied. "You're looking pretty good Cordelia. Heard you had a steady job here now."

"Well you know how it goes, always a party," Cordelia said in a sarcastic voice. Then she shook her head. "Look at you! Oh sweetie, what did you do to your _hair_? You're not... like, punking it up or anything are you?"

"No," Dawn said. "Did Angel tell you what happened out there with Glory?"

"Oh, you mean all that stuff about you not really being in our lives and instead being some kind of ball of energy and that all sorts of other crazy things happened? Something about a dark god or something?"

"Yeah," Dawn said after a moment. "That kind of sums it up. Well the hair and the eyes are a little side effect of my powers coming out. They're changing my body to make me a little more stable and better able to use what I have. Side effect? Fashion _disaster_."

"Oh you poor thing," Cordy cooed. She gave Dawn a sympathetic look. "I'm so sorry. I... I heard about Buffy too. I'm... she was a good girl."

"Yeah, she really was," Dawn said with a smile. "Though I think she'd probably be rolling in her grave to hear you say that."

"Don't _say_ things like that!" Cordelia admonished. Dawn blinked and Cordelia shook her finger at the teenager. "She's buried in _Sunnydale_ you twit! Don't tempt fate."

Dawn started to speak, then stopped. "Actually good point. Thanks for that."

"No problem," Cordelia said. She looked at Dawn's scar. "You must have been a busy girl after all that stuff. I heard you skipped town, like your sister used to."

"That's true, in a way," Dawn said with a sour expression. "But it isn't everything. Buffy ran off to get away from everything. I ran off to get _into_ everything. I got some training."

"Really?" Cordelia asked, looking far more interested than Dawn's memories of her would indicate. She didn't remember Cordelia expressing that much interest in armament and combat training before.

"Yup," Dawn said. "Got trained by a genuine Fae Lord and everything. I even got the spear to prove it."

She drew the spear from her back and twirled it in her hand before extending the haft out and planting the butt into the floor tiles. Cordy looked at the spear with unabashed interest. Dawn smirked. "Beats the heck out of a t-shirt, doesn't it? That and I also picked up a friend. Okay, now promise you won't freak."

Cordelia's hand darted underneath her desk and came back out with a shotgun. "Dawnie, I love you like a sister... er, I remember loving you like a sister, but so help me God, I hate those words."

Dawn blanched. "Er. Okay, well, come on out slowly okay. Cordy, please don't shoot him. He's actually a really nice guy once you get to know him."

Cordelia did an admirable job of not shooting Mr. Wink as he walked into the light. Given that he was a nine foot tall gray skinned troll with tusks, that was fairly impressive. The huge bag over his shoulder could probably hold a human body, though at the moment all it held were clothes. He moved particularly slowly and stopped a foot behind Dawn, and reached out to rest a massive three fingered paw on Dawn's shoulder. Dawn gestured to him.

"Mr. Wink, this is my sister's old..."

"High school acquaintance," Cordelia offered. Dawn nodded.

"Acquaintance," Dawn repeated. "And this, Cordy, is Mr. Wink."

"Um, hi," Cordy offered. Her shotgun didn't waver in the slightest. "You're a huge troll. Dawn, why are you hanging out with a huge troll? He's... not your boyfriend is he?"

Dawn goggled at her. "My _what?_"

"Oh, that's a relief," Cordelia said, lowering the shotgun slightly. "So, um, Mr. Wink is it? Uh nice to meet you?"

Mr. Wink gave a brief nod to her. Dawn brightened a little bit.

"Anyway," she said. "I ran into Captain Broody on the street and he told me to stop by. Apparently you guys actually do private investigations now. What's the world coming to?"

"Have to pay for the wonderful accommodations somehow," Cordelia gestured vaguely at the _Hyperion_. "Here..."

With disturbing ease, Cordelia stowed the shotgun beneath her desk. She dug around in one of her drawers for a minute before pulling out a key on a chain. "This is for room 301. It's a double... will that work for, um, Mr. Wink?"

Dawn looked up at him, and he nodded. She shrugged. "Sure."

"And this," Cordelia said, retrieving another key. "Is for room 302. This one's yours."

"Thanks Cordy!" Dawn said. "Well just get all settled in for the moment. Oh, Cordy, one thing?"

"Yes?" Cordelia asked.

"Don't tell them I'm here, please?" Dawn said with a pleading look. "It'll only make this take longer, and I want to get back to good old Sunnyhell as soon as I can."

"Hmm," Cordelia said with a contemplative look. "Alright, fine. I think we can do that."

"Good," Dawn sighed. She turned to Mr. Wink and beamed. "Come on, time to set up shop!"

Mr. Wink grumbled something inaudible as they carefully walked up the stairs and out of Cordelia's sight. Cordy just shook her head. Another day, another freak show; that's L.A. for you.

0oooo0oooo0

_She was walking towards the surface of a tunnel in front of her, Mr. Wink behind her shoulder. The tunnels were dank, and after a year cooped up in them, Dawn was looking forward to the sun again. Her skin was pale now, almost vampire white from her extended stay beneath Manhattan. The two of them reached the access hatch when a voice called out._

_"You do not understand what you have done, do you?" _

_She whirled around to see a woman standing there. Her feature were hauntingly familiar. The feminine echo of Nuada, right down to the scars. Dawn blinked and went down on one knee out of respect._

_"Princess?" she asked confused. "Why are you here?"_

_"My brother," she said bitterly. Dawn cocked her head to the side. _

_"I'm sorry?" _

_"Do you know why the crown was split into three pieces?" Nuala continued. She gave Dawn a nearly hateful stare._

_"No," Dawn said slowly. Nuala gave her a grim smile._

_"To keep someone like him from exterminating the human race," Nuala said in a soft voice. Dawn felt chills run up her spine. "The crown... fully assembled it is a device that controls the ultimate army. Seventy times seventy warriors who feel no pain, no remorse, and whose forms are indestructible as long as the crown and core of Beth-Morae remain intact. My father saw the callous slaughter that the great army accomplished against the hosts of man, and he felt his heart break at the sight of it. The crown was broken; the three pieces separated. One he retained, one he entrusted to me, and the final piece he sent to the humans as part of the most ancient treaty of the Fae with Man."_

_"Balor wept?" Dawn whispered. The Key's memories of him... that was impossible. He was a fallen Greater Spirit. A god as humans measured such things._

_"Balor wept," Nuala said. Dawn's face crumpled as she looked at Nuala. The kind of cosmic agony that could cause a being like Balor to weep. That was truly terrifying. Worse than the Mayor by a long shot. _

_"What... what did I do?" Dawn asked quietly._

_"Change things forever," Nuala said. She gave a sad smile. "But you could not have known. He does not have the strength to face father yet, and as long as father lives he will not strike at me. But you have set things in motion Aurora Summers; things that were inevitable perhaps. But at the very least you have moved his time table up by years, and if he succeeds the ones that you sought to protect will be his targets."_

_"How do you know all this?" Dawn asked. "About me, about what your brother is planning?"_

_"I know him because we are one in many ways," she said. "I have had millenia to learn the way he thinks and acts. I know him more intimately than any other, and he me. We are two bodies with a single soul; and that soul is in conflict with itself."_

_"Then he's going to do it," Dawn said. "Start the apocalypse."_

_"Perhaps," Nuala said with an uncertain expression. "Something... something happened which should not have. A singularity in time. You should never have learned what you once knew, never learned to access your own powers at this point. I do not know what caused it, but I do know this; everything is changing. Everything."_

_"I am a seer of some ability," Nuala continued. "But you... you seem to change all the rules. You are outside of fate... outside of time even. You change the world beyond the channels laid by the Ogdru Jahad and the Greater Spirits. The Powers That Be and the Demon Lords are shadows of those First Ones."_

_"I was there," Dawn whispered. She narrowed her eyes. "I know that better than you should."_

_"And that is why you are unique," Nuala said. "Why you have thrown fate out of line. But if you wish to save your friends, I have a message for you. A prophecy if you will."_

_Nuala raised her pale hand and withdrew a slip of paper. The symbol on it made Dawn's eyes go wide. It was familiar to her... a name. Her name. Her True Name._

_"How did you get that?" Dawn asked in a very quiet voice. _

_"I am gifted with visions from time to time," Nuala said. "Though I receive them rarely, they are usually surrounding events of great import. I will tell you what I see: The City of the Angel fallen into the burning night, corrupted and despoiled. I see the Destroyer bound within it, unable to complete its destiny. I see the Pit sealed. I see the death of all magic. But it is a false death, for the corruption lives on, unchallenged. The world must not see this day; for there will be no dawn after that terrible time for Fae or Man."_

_"Seek the Dragon that is lost. Bind in blood the vision of light. Seal that which was shattered by the shards of the broken mirror. Restore the faith that was broken. Challenge the Destroyer, death bringing new life. Gold shall be the face at the sundering of worlds. The seven sealed Bringer of Light must face the Sevenfold Dragon; maker against un-maker, equal in might, they must stand against one another at the ending of the age. If you do these, then there will be a chance."_

_"A chance," Dawn whispered. "That's it?"_

_"That is more hope than there was before you meddled as you did," Nuala commented. She smirked. "The world will always be dark. That is why we bring with us our own light. I know now that you must flee to the City of the Angel. The Dragon awaits you there. From there, the rest is up to you."_

_Then the princess was gone._

0oooo0oooo0

Angel sat back in his overstuffed chair across from Dawn. Mr. Wink waited outside with Cordelia, Wesley, a girl named Fred that she'd never met before, and a very irritable looking black kid named Gunn. She'd spent the last hour sipping tea and telling him about what she'd been doing to accelerate her training. Angel surprised her by simply listening to what she'd done, even when she expounded on some of the more... brutal details of her training regimen under Nuada. He didn't seem to judge her in the slightest. When she asked him about it Angel had shrugged.

"We all do what we can to honor Buffy's memory," Angel had said with a pained expression. "I don't think she'd be happy with what you've become, but she would be very proud of you Dawn."

She'd had to stop at that moment. She didn't often cry anymore, but sometimes she couldn't help it. She had then moved onto the prophecy. Dawn was quite certain that if there was anyone in the world now other than Giles that she might potentially trust with this, it was Angel. After all, she and he both ended up agreeing that he was pretty much named within it.

Dawn watched his reaction to the prophecy. She'd left out the bit about her perhaps inadvertently causing a possible apocalypse. The prophecy Nuala had given her, however, and the consequences of her inaction she'd spelled out very clearly to Angel. She needed his help with this.

"This... this is bad," Angel said finally. Dawn smirked.

"Well, I can see why she liked you. A man of many words."

Angel seemed to cringe at her mention of Buffy. It was hard to remember sometimes that it had been more than a year for her, and only a few months for them. However she kept her slightly glowing green pupils locked on his brown eyes. He inhaled deeply and then exhaled. An old habit, the intellectual part of her realized. Holdovers of life.

"This... some of this seems to fit with possible things that we've found," Angel said. "Scraps of ancient prophecy and such. I don't know about much of this. The references to the dragons have me completely stumped. Some of the others though, I might have. The reference to sealing that which was shattered by the broken mirror; I think that one might be Fred."

"The new girl out there giving everyone a terrified look?" Dawn asked skeptically. Angel folded his hands under his chin.

"She was a slave for five years in Pylea," Angel said. "She hadn't even come out of her room until you showed up. I don't know why she did, frankly."

"Hm," Dawn said. "Maybe I'll have to talk to her."

"She's kind of... abrupt," Angel cautioned. Dawn shot him a sunny smile.

"Then I'll just have to use the old Summers charm," she said in a bright voice. Angel visibly winced at that.

"You're more like your sister every day," Angel muttered.

"God, I hope that wasn't a pickup line," Dawn said. She shot him a narrow eyed glance. "Was it?"

She had never seen the unflappable Dead Boy stutter before, but it was totally worth it. She held the glare, until she couldn't anymore and leaned back into her armchair laughing. After a moment Angel smirked a little.

"So you can smile," Dawn observed, sitting up straighter and crossing her legs in a regal fashion.

"Yes," Angel replied in a perfect deadpan. "But it hurts my face to do it. Hours of scowling conditioning wasted when I do."

She laughed at that, and Angel marveled at it. It was lower than Buffy's was at that age, huskier and from deeper in her chest. Almost, but not quite, a man's laugh; and something totally unique to Dawn. She shook her head at him when she finished.

"Just so long as you understand what we're up against," Dawn began, then trailed off. She turned her head abruptly to the side. "Someone just came in the front door. Someone that stinks of Quor-toth."

"Quor-toth?" Angel asked with a raised eyebrow. Dawn turned back to him with a fierce scowl.

"Glory's playground," Dawn said bitterly. "She... well, put it this way. It's the worst of all hell dimensions. Literally. Worse than the domain of Acathla, from what I understand. I did a little covert research on it when everyone started panicking about Glorificus."

Angel whistled. Dawn gave him a sad look.

"I figured you'd get it," Dawn said. "But right now, I'm really curious just who walked through that door."

"If it's as bad as you say, then I'd better head out there," Angel said. The two of them got to their feet and walked out the lobby. Mr. Wink was near Cordelia, apparently having a conversation about something, but his eye was trained on the main entrance too. Charles Gunn was leaning on the wall next to where the nervous looking Fred and Wesley were sitting. All of the talking stopped when they saw who was standing in the door.

A desperate looking woman, her well tailored suit smoking slightly, looking over her shoulder. Her blonde hair seemed to be steaming and she was smudged with dirt and soot. She looked up at Angel and Dawn standing on the upper landing.

"Please, you have to help me," the woman said. Angel seemed to know her.

"Lilah?" Angel asked. His expression only slightly less stunned than the one when she'd shown up. "Why in the world would I help you?"

"Because something is coming," Lilah said quietly.

"A dragon?" Dawn hazarded. Lilah looked shocked. Dawn smirked. "Descendant of a prophecy girl here; _so_ not surprised."

"I... I never thought they were even on this plane," Lilah managed. "But it showed up and just started going to town on the office. I don't know what it's looking for. It kept ranting something about finding a key. While it was ripping the first floor of the Wolfram and Hart building to shreds. Guess I picked a good time to go out for coffee. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?"

Dawn's eyes narrowed. "I have a vague idea. So where is he?"

"Oh, I dunno, about four blocks behind me on Hyperion Ave," Lilah remarked calmly. It surprised her just how composed the other woman had become.

"It's following you," Angel observed. "Why is it following you?"

"My charming wit and good looks aren't enough cause?" Lilah asked. Dawn's suddenly glowing pupils were barely visible slits, her fury obvious. Then she was behind Lilah, her spear held to the base of the lawyer's lumbar spine.

"Nope," Dawn said cheerfully. "Try again!"

"Because somehow it thinks that I know where its Key would be," Lilah said. She looked over her shoulder at Dawn and gave her a winning smile. "Or some such nonsense. I didn't exactly stick around to debate with it. By the way young lady, that was impressive. Do you need employment of any kind? We have a great compensation package."

Ancient memory stirred, names coming to her through the fog of ages. "You said Wolfram and Hart. That wouldn't be the Wolf, the Ram, and the Hart would it?"

Lilah appeared to choke a little, and her charming smile faded a little. "You are surprisingly well informed."

"Eh," Dawn shrugged. "I never met them myself, but I do know who they were back in the day. Guess they've worked their way up in the last few millenia. Sorry, but not interested. Already have other employment now, thanks."

Gunn looked over at Wesley. "I think I like that chick."

"Well, since it's here, I might as well go out and say hello," she commented. She looked over her shoulder. "Mr Wink? If you'd be so kind."

Mr. Wink trundled up to Lilah who looked up at him fearlessly. The Troll seemed to shrug and backhanded her into the wall next to the entryway. The lawyer collapsed into a boneless heap after bouncing off the wall.

"You know," Angel said. "I've always wanted to do that."

Mr. Wink gave Dawn a knowing look. She smirked. "Well, Mr. Wink here has a singular talent for that kind of thing. Sorry for bringing this to your doorstep. I didn't have any idea it would be running around trashing law firms."

Angel shrugged. "It's okay. I'm surprisingly comfortable with it."

0oooo0oooo0

The summer L.A. evening was still sweltering as Dawn, Mr. Wink, and a good chunk of the Fang Gang walked outside. They were armed with a motley assortment of weapons, from Wesley's shotgun to Angel's battle ax. Even Mr. Wink had drawn the massive cleaver like blade that he wielded when fists might not be enough. It was nearly as tall as Dawn was, and probably weighed as much too.

Dawn halted. "Do you smell anything Angel? I feel something... but it's like a buzzing behind my head. No sense of direction."

"Yeah," he said. He contemplatively sniffed the air a few more times. "This way."

They turned off the main street and down a fairly broad secondary street. Traffic was light, and pedestrian traffic even more so. There was only a single man on the street, walking towards them. He was dressed in a suit and had a well maintained goatee and professional haircut. He wasn't terribly tall and he had high cheekbones, actually pretty hot, Dawn mused, if you were thirty. His smile was disconcerting though, and his eyes were a deep golden shade that she'd never seen in another human before. There was something about his appearance that was jogging her memory, but she wasn't sure what. He looked... familiar somehow.

She held out a hand, causing the group to slow down. Angel looked down at her with a bemused expression, but stopped.

"So," Dawn said carefully. "What do you call fifty demon worshiping lawyers in a burning building?"

The man stopped on his walk forward. His smile became wider, revealing far too many canines to be a human. "A good start."

"A man after my own heart," Dawn replied with a smile of her own. "I hear you're looking for something."

"You, actually," the man said. He straightened in his suit and adjusted his tie a little. "You are the Key."

"So I've been told," Dawn admitted. "Last person who went looking for me died in a rather messy way though. And she was an Ogdru Hem, a Hell God."

"The 'Divine Glorificus'?" he asked. Though he didn't make air quotes, the implication was clear. Dawn nodded.

"Divine or not, she was scary enough," Dawn replied. She sounded distant, even to her own ears. "But she's still a corpse. Snapped her neck myself."

Angel looked at her with sad eyes, while Cordelia was looking at her like she'd grown another head. The man looked visibly impressed.

"One less of Them then."

"Only 368 left," Dawn said conversationally. "Give or take a few I guess. So, why do you need me?"

"I want to go home," the man said.

Dawn drew her spear and her glamour faded, showing her true clothing. "Sorry. The Express to Quor-Toth was a one time thing. Try again."

The man looked surprised. "Quor-Toth? I was trying to get _out_ of Quor-Toth."

"So that was you," Dawn whispered. "I remember you. You were bigger. You were one of the first things to leave the gate."

"I'm a shapeshifter," the man said acidly. "I just happen to like the way this mortal looks. I've become a fan of Gary Oldman in the past three months."

"I knew it!" Cordelia exclaimed. The man raised an eyebrow at the comment, but turned back to Dawn.

"Alright," Dawn asked carefully. "Where do you want to go exactly?"

"Terratis," the man commented. "This place looks enough like it that it's probably not that far away from here, dimension wise."

"Okay, how do I know that we can trust you?"

"You don't," the man replied. "But if it means anything I promise not to do you or these others any harm."

"The word of a stranger doesn't mean that much," Gunn observed.

Dawn looked at Mr. Wink. "I think we may have a way to make it count. You ever heard of a Fae contract Mr...?"

"Slade," the man said. "Winston Slade. And yes. I have."

"They're binding," Dawn explained for the benefit of the others. "If you break them, bad things happen to you. Really bad things. Pianos and old Soviet satellites falling out of the sky bad. Makes your short remaining life look like a Loony Toon Wile E. Coyote special. Mr. Wink can seal a contract."

"All right," Dawn continued. She looked right at Angel. "I'd like to use your space for this; but I need your permission. I'd understand if you told us to go somewhere else."

"Buffy would never have forgiven me if I didn't try to help," Angel said. He considered for a moment. "Of course, try to keep the property damage down. I don't want to have to replace the entire hotel."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Dawn said. She looked over at Winston. "Alright Mr. Gary Oldman fan, let's see what we can find."

0oooo0oooo0

"It doesn't exist," Cordelia exclaimed. She looked extremely pissed. For five days they'd been looking for any alternate dimension named Terratis. So far, nothing. Not even a veiled reference. And Wesley had a pretty good grip on the alternate dimension spread.

"Then maybe we're looking in the wrong spot," Dawn offered. She was nearly hidden behind a pile of books. "Maybe that isn't what it's called now. I had a long conversation with Slade; he doesn't really know how long he's been gone. Time passes much more quickly in Quor-toth. He said he'd been there a long, loong, time."

"Then perhaps we should be looking at historical names," Wesley muttered. He snapped his fingers, reaching into the pile and pulling out another book.

"Terratis," a small voice offered. The three of them turned to see Fred clutching a large book like a teddy bear. She was reading straight from it. "A dimension where the Demon Lords once held sway. Now overrun with lesser demons and diluted spawn. Uninhabitable by the Old Ones and Greater Demons. A constant battleground for the forces of the Great Divide between the Old Ones..."

"My god," Wesley whispered. "Winnifred, how old is that reference?"

"Extracted from the _Lithicum Codex,_ a demon text," Fred said in a mechanical voice. "Circa 14,000 B.C., reproduced several times in Sumeria and later Iberia. That's just when we know of it. It could very well be older."

"Oh snap," Dawn said quietly, leaning back in her chair. "He wasn't kidding when he said it'd been a long time. This could go... well, not goodly."

"Duh," Cordelia said.

"Well, let's see if we can find any other references," Wesley said. "Now that we know where to look."

This was troublesome.

0oooo0oooo0

"Truly?" Winston asked. "The thing I like best is beer. Wish we had some of that back home. Getting drunk was a novel experience, I'll say that."

Mr. Wink nodded sagely. He was about to continue when there was a knock at the door. Slade looked up.

"Come in," he called out. Dawn opened the door and walked into the room, holding an extremely ancient looking scroll in her hand, followed by Wesley and Angel. He perked up instantly. "Oh, excellent! Does that have what we'll need?"

"In a manner of speaking," Wesley said with a nervous twitch. "Tell me, how long do you think you were away Mr. Slade? Just a rough guess."

Slade's eyes grew distant. "I was trapped there by an old enemy many years ago. Maybe tens of thousands of years. A long time, even for an immortal like myself. I was dangerous enough that they rarely bothered me after the first thousand years there though. I don't really remember details after the Three just decided to leave me alone. It was pretty monotonous."

"Well," Angel began. "We have good news, and we have bad news."

"Good news?" Slade asked hopefully.

"We found Terratis," Dawn said.

"Great!" Slade said, enthusiasm and focus creeping into his posture. "How do I get there?"

"That's the bad news," Dawn said. She looked helplessly at Angel and Wesley. Wesley exhaled slowly.

"Well, it seems from what we've been able to gather that you are already in Terratis," Wesley said. His voice grew quiet. "This _is_ Terratis."

Slade sat back in his chair, with a look of shock. "But... I can't feel them... any of them."

"Feel who?" Angel asked.

"The others," Slade said, still in a state of shock. "I can't feel any of the others of my kind. It's as if they're all just... gone."

"Um," Dawn said, as Winston Slade looked at the far wall, his eyes obviously seeing something vastly different than the plaster across from him. "When we found that out, we went digging for other things, other accounts of... er, dragons. This scroll has the most complete information that we were able to find. From what we know, our best guess is that the last time anyone ever saw a dragon was probably about a thousand years ago, in central Europe. Even then it was a rare thing. I'm... I'm really sorry Mr. Slade."

Carefully Dawn handed the scroll to Slade who stared at it in incomprehension. He was silent for a moment, and then turned to look at the three of them.

"What is it written in?" Slade asked numbly. Dawn sighed a little.

"Latin," she said. "I can get you some books if you want."

"Thank you," Slade mumbled. He turned the scroll over in his hands. "If you wouldn't mind though, I'd like to be alone for a while please."

"I understand," Dawn said. Mr. Wink bowed just a little and the whole group of them left. Winston Slade, the last dragon, stared at the opposite wall for a very, very long time.


	6. Chapter 5 LA Nightmares

Chapter 5: L.A. Nightmares

Dawn had almost forgotten just how fun it was to go shoe shopping in L.A.. Of course neither she nor Cordelia were exactly made of money, but in her infinite wisdom Cordelia had discovered quite a few little places that were reasonably affordable. It wasn't the cutting edge of fashion; but it was only one or two steps behind. Dawn hadn't been this girly in what felt like forever. Spending a year with a troll and an elf whose primary obsessions were physical mayhem and the decline of his species could do that to a girl.

It was just the two of them at the moment. Mr. Wink had wanted to come at first, and Slade was quite curious himself. He hadn't exactly gone shopping the normal way himself. How he had ended up with that suitcase full of Armani, Dawn wasn't entirely sure she wanted to know. However, after a stunningly inspired soliloquy by Gunn and a few comments by Angel, both of them had decided that discretion was by far the better part of valor. Dawn had tried to convince Fred to come, but the girl was still spooked by open spaces and large crowds, and had declined by locking herself up in her room. When they'd left, Gunn and Wesley had been trying to talk her out of her room fairly unsuccessfully.

"So," Dawn asked, doing a little twirl. She wore a pair of dark green heels. "What do you think?"

"Hm," Cordelia said with a thoughtful look. "Not bad. In the right outfit, that would do wonders for you."

"I think I'll get them," Dawn temporized. "They're on sale too."

"Oh," Cordelia said. "That seals it. Now, what do you think of these two..."

Suddenly Cordelia convulsed, dropping the pair of black slippers she'd had in hand. Dawn watched with wide eyes as Cordelia appeared to start having a seizure. She moved as quickly as she could, kneeling down next to Cordelia's shaking body.

"Pad," Cordelia grit out through her clenched teeth. "Paper, pen, in purse."

Dawn reached over to Cordelia's purse and pulled out a small note pad and a pen, carefully handing them to Cordelia. The older woman grasped them like she was drowning and they were a life preserver. She sat up and scribbled on the pad furiously and then collapsed again. Dawn's eyes widened when she saw a small trickle of blood running out of Cordelia's nose.

"Get this to Angel," Cordelia said. Her voice was desperate. "Hurry."

Dawn reached down and slung Cordelia's arm over her shoulder, hoisting her up.

"Not without you," Dawn said. Cordelia shook her head.

"No time."

"You've never seen me move really fast have you?" Dawn asked with a smile, but her eyes betrayed her deep concern. "Dawnie express; one way, coming up."

There was a flash of green light and the two of them were standing in the lobby of the Hyperion. Dawn looked around.

"We need some help here," Dawn yelled out. "Cordelia's in trouble."

Wesley and Gunn skidded into sight around a corner. Wesley's blinked, and his face became a concerned frown. He ran up to them and supported Cordelia's other shoulder. She slumped into him.

"Do you have anything?" Wesley prompted. "Did she write anything?"

"Well yeah?" Dawn asked slightly confused. "There's this..."

Wesley snatched the pad from her and read it quickly. He looked over to Gunn. "Get Angel now! We have to move quickly."

Gunn vanished. Dawn gave a frustrated pout.

"Will you guys just tell me what the _heck_ is going on?" Dawn asked. Wesley nodded and the two of them began maneuvering Cordelia's limp body to a nearby couch.

"It is complicated," Wesley began. "But essentially Cordelia acts as a conduit to the Powers That Be in order to guide Angel to do his duty as a Champion. She received them from a half demon named Doyle, a good friend of hers and Angel's, just before he died. They were always hard on the recipient, but they've been getting worse for her. She won't come out of this state until Angel does what he needs to do. It used to only temporarily effect her, but it has become a deteriorating state of affairs."

Dawn blinked. "Wait a sec, she got this from a demon right?"

"Well, a half demon, yes, but," Wesley began.

"Are humans supposed to have this kind of a power?" Dawn asked with a raised eyebrow, rolling right over him. She looked down at Cordelia's limp body.

"We... we don't think so," Wesley replied softly. Dawn leaned over and smoothed Cordelia's hair back gently.

"Then how do we make it better?" Dawn asked. She looked up and the hard cast to her eyes made Wesley lean back very carefully. "Is there any way to, I dunno, _make_ her a half demon or something?"

"Not that I know of," Wesley said.

"There might be a way," Slade's cool voice interjected. Both Dawn and Wesley jumped nearly a foot in the air. Dawn whirled around; she hadn't even felt him sneak up on her. It sent chills down her spine when she realized her senses hadn't even caught him. Maybe she wasn't as aware of her surroundings as she thought.

Slade looked tired and drawn, his gaze distant, but he had a thoughtful frown on his face. His suit coat was thrown over one shoulder, and his shirt was wrinkled as if it had been slept in. He was not cheerful looking like he'd been after he'd massacred some of Wolfram and Hart, but he was looking a little bit better than he had when she'd given him the scroll.

"What do you know about it?" Dawn asked. Slade shrugged.

"I was around when some of the half demons were created," he said. "The 'pure blood' demons wanted to have slave races mostly. Not all of them did it by, what's the term... grinding pelvises?"

Dawn winced. Well, _that_ was was out of the question. "Okay, well then what did they do?"

"A few different things," Slade said, kneeling down next to Cordelia and giving her a long hard look. He rubbed his goatee thoughtfully with one hand. "There were rituals that caused a demon spirit to posses a host."

"Out of the question," Wesley interjected. Slade shrugged.

"Yeah, they were hard to control," the dragon agreed. "There was one other major way I remember; blood rituals."

"Now before you get all huffy," Slade said, noticing Dawn's obvious agitation. "Here's how it worked. Basically the 'pure blood' would freely give it's blood to a human, and the human would become just a little bound to the powers of the demon. These half breeds tended to be the more trusted kind of servant. You know, lower beings who essentially had earned an upgrade from their demon masters. There was a little song and dance required, but the basic gist was that the recipient became a... er, blood brother I think is the term you use. Born of different mothers but sharing the same blood? It didn't really change either one's basic personality, not like a possession. It was more like induction into a clan."

"Yes, blood brother would be the term," Wesley said. Dawn was looking down at the prostrate Cordelia again.

"Then all we need to do is find something willing to do it," Dawn said quietly.

"I don't know about that," Slade said, and there was caution in his voice. "It requires a lot of trust between the people. Most 'pure blooded' demons aren't really the trusting type unless you work directly for them."

"Does it have to be a demon?" Dawn asked after a long silence.

"Well, it does have to be something with appreciable power," Slade said thoughtfully. "But I don't really see why it would require something descended from the Ogdru Jahad. I guess it could be any number of descended entities. The Greater Spirits, the Sentinels, the Causals..."

"... the Key," Dawn whispered. Slade blinked in surprise. He raised an eyebrow at her.

"Well, yes," Slade said in a surprised voice. "I hadn't thought of that, but you would definitely be a descendant of the Greater Spirits. Direct one too. You have the blood for it."

"I'm not their descendant," Dawn said quietly. "I'm their predecessor."

Slade blinked, and Dawn continued on. "Then I guess we're going to need to find a spell that will do the trick."

Dawn dusted off her pant legs and got up to walk away. Slade frowned at her retreating back.

"Aurora," Slade called out. Dawn stopped. "I don't know how this will affect the both of you. It created all kinds of sub races, and not all of them were really 'good'. The Turok Han, for example."

"What are those?" Wesley asked. "They sound quite familiar."

"I think their descendants are what you call vampires," Slade said absentmindedly. He turned away from Wesley to address Dawn. "We have no idea how this will effect your... friend here. It could be even worse."

"She's going to die if we don't do something, isn't she?" Dawn asked, looking over her shoulder at them. Slade shrugged helplessly. Wesley looked perturbed by Dawn's bluntness. Dawn smiled a jackal's smile. "I thought so. I watched my mother, sick in the hospital, just like this. A brain tumor was killing her. Slowly."

Dawn shut her eyes. "If the blood that caused my sister to die can save someone else, I'm going to do it. It's what Buffy would do. She did it for me after all."

Wesley didn't argue, and Slade shrugged again.

"Whatever you want to do," Slade said. There was a shuffling noise and Fred's head popped over a banister to look down at them. The three of them looked up at her and then back at one another. Mr. Wink, drawn by the commotion, had trundled into the room looking extremely bored. Dawn gifted him with a small smile and Slade a respectful nod.

"Where could we find a spell like this?" Wesley asked. Slade crossed his arms thoughtfully, but shook his head.

"I don't know," Slade said. "I had no use for it, that's for sure. But anyone who collects 'pure blooded' demon lore would have it."

"I know some people that might," Dawn said, looking distant. "Occult collectors of a sort. Met one of them in Brooklyn."

Mr. Wink cocked his head to the side and Dawn rubbed her own chin, mimicking Slade's earlier gesture. She looked straight at him.

"There is a Market here?" she asked. Mr. Wink nodded. "Can you follow the signs to it?"

Mr. Wink nodded again.

"Then it's field trip time," Dawn said. Mr. Wink crossed the lobby to stand next to Dawn. Slade cracked his neck slightly, shrugging into his suit coat and pulling out a cigarette from a rumpled pack in his jacket pocket.

"Would you mind some company?" Slade asked, pulling out his lighter. "I think I need to be outside for a bit. Haven't been out for more than a week."

"Sure," Dawn said looking for approval from her huge partner. Mr. Wink gave a toothy grin to which Dawn frowned. "Oh no you don't. If the two of you get into any unnecessary fights, I am _not_ going to be happy. We're going for business, not... fun."

"Fine then," Slade said. "But we're okay to act if we get jumped right?"

"Alright," Dawn relented. She knew that was the best she'd ever get out of Mr. Wink. Slade probably just wanted to vent some frustration. She'd never seen him fight, but from the way Wesley and Angel had been talking, walking into the front door of Wolfram and Hart and demolishing it even a little was a pretty impressive feat.

Slade grinned up at Mr. Wink and cracked his knuckles. The three of them vanished in a sparkle of green light. Wesley looked up at Fred's inquisitive face and smiled.

"Would you be so kind as to get me some water and the blue bottle from the medicine cabinet Winnifred? I'm afraid Cordelia will need it when she awakens."

Fred's face disappeared again, and Wesley reached out to take Cordelia's hand in his own. His voice was a quiet whisper. "Hold on. It will be over soon."

0oooo0oooo0

Wesley awoke to the the sound of muttering. He looked down to see that he was sitting on the couch and that Cordelia had been propped into his lap. She was moving again, her eyes fluttering slightly.

"That was a bad one," her dry voice commented. "Worst one since that scythe wielding freak hit me with everything."

"Here," Wesley said. He turned to the side table where Fred had left the pills and water. He gingerly helped Cordelia into a sitting position, and then handed her a pair of the high strength painkillers and the glass of water. She gulped them all down with practiced ease and leaned back on the couch.

"We're worried about you Cordelia," Wesley said after a pause.

"_I'm_ worried about me," Cordelia countered. "They just keep getting worse..."

Neither of them said anything in that moment. The sound of someone slamming the lobby door caused them to look up. A soot smudged Dawn with her hair in wild disarray and her breastplate scuffed walked in the door. She appeared completely livid and was yelling over her shoulder.

"...And if you two _ever_ do something that stupid again so help me God I will find a way to _end_ you," she roared. She looked over at Cordelia. "Cordy, you're awake! You scared the life out of me."

"I'm sorry about that kid," Cordelia said. She sighed. "I didn't think it would catch me that badly."

Dawn nodded in sympathy. "That's okay, all of us have stuff we don't talk about. I was able to find the book though; or a book at least. It claims it has the right rituals, but I'm not really qualified to check."

"Really?" Wesley asked. Dawn nodded with an irritated expression.

"No thanks to _those two,_" Dawn said, yelling the last two words. A rumpled but much happier looking Slade and an equally smug Mr. Wink walked in the door.

"They had it coming," Slade said, dusting off his coat. Dawn turned around, her teeth bared in a snarl.

"Why on earth did you kick that troll's puppy?" Dawn countered. Slade shrugged.

"It looked threatening," Winston replied. He spread his arms wide. "It was growling at me."

"It was a foot long Slade," Dawn said acidly.

"Eh, the troll as just going to eat it anyway," Slade remarked in a philosophical tone.

"Argh!" Dawn said, throwing her hands up. "I'm going upstairs to my room to clean up and when I get back I don't want to see you for at least two hours unless it's an emergency. Or I will stab you."

"Yes ma'am," Slade said contritely. He watched as Dawn tossed a leather bound book at Wesley, who just barely managed to catch it, and stomped up the stairs in a truly foul mood. Fred passed her going the other way, skittering to be out of her reach, but she was watching Dawn with an uncomfortable intensity.

"What happened to you?" Fred asked very quietly. Dawn stopped and gave her a dark glare.

"Men," Dawn said. "Now go help Wesley. He could use a hand right now."

Then she continued to stomp. Stupid men. Stupid trolls. Stupid picking a fight in the middle of the damn market and turning it into a free for all brawl.

0oooo0oooo0

Dawn let the water cascade down her body. God, the one thing she'd really missed in her year of exile, hot showers. Nothing beat 'em except for a bubble bath. She leaned forward in the stall and planted her hands on either side of the dial. It was calming being here. Even if she had to bask in Colorado River water. Ugh. At least she didn't really feel like gutting Slade and Mr. Wink anymore. That was something.

Reluctantly, she reached out and turned off the tap, picked up her towel and walked out the shower stall. She dried off quickly and was in the process of drying her hair when she felt another presence close by. She narrowed her eyes. The door opened and there was a very small 'eek' that came from the woman that they called 'Fred'.

Dawn turned around, totally unashamed at her state of undress and raised an eyebrow. Fred stood in the doorway, her cheeks red, looking flustered. Dawn shook her head and continued to towel off her hair. A year with Nuada and Wink was enough to kill your sense of modesty. Especially when they would ambush you while you were bathing every once in a while.

"Come in and shut the door," Dawn said gently. "I don't feel like giving the guys a free show."

Fred made another squeaking noise and walked in shutting the door behind her.

"I... I um just wanted to let you know," Fred began. "They found that spell you were looking for."

"Oh? Great!" Dawn said. Her voice was enthusiastic but her heart wasn't really in it. Fred seemed to sense it and cocked her head to the side as Dawn pulled on her underwear.

"Um, those scars," Fred asked. Dawn put her bra on and adjusted it, but Fred didn't seem to want to say more.

"Yup, what about them?"

"How... how did you get them?" Fred asked. Dawn looked down at her body and shrugged a little. She was covered in tiny scars from nicks and cuts, just basic training really. There were a few other larger ones though.

She pointed to a long one across her muscled belly. "This one was from spear training, my teacher nearly gutted me."

"This one," Dawn continued, pointing at a jagged cut across her sternum. "Was when he cut me with a knife when I was careless. It hurt like heck."

Dawn almost laughed at Fred's comically wide eyes. "And this one was when Mr. Wink nearly punched me through a brick wall. That one _really _sucked."

"What about those?" Fred asked quietly, pointing at Dawn's arms. Dawn looked down at the perpendicular cuts across her forearm.

"Those," Dawn said with a slight hitch in her breath. "Those were scars that I got when I made a mistake. I ran away from home, found out that I wasn't even really human."

"The pain made me feel real, I guess," Dawn continued quietly. "Buffy found me, and she talked me down. I felt like I wasn't really part of the world, but... she told me that I was. That we shared blood and love. That even though her memories were fake, what she felt for me wasn't. God, I felt so stupid. Sometimes... sometimes I look at them, just to remind myself. Remind myself why I'm still alive and what my family did for me, even though they're all dead and gone."

"I can understand not feeling real," Fred said in the silence that fell. "I feel not real all the time."

"Why's that?" Dawn asked, looking up from her self inflicted scars with a curious expression.

"Well I spent all this time in another place," Fred said haltingly. "It was like a dream; a bad dream that I couldn't wake up from. But now I'm here and I can't wake up either. Is this a dream too? Will I wake up again in the slave pits, in my cave? I don't know... I can't feel the difference."

Dawn walked up to her and took her hand. "Sure you can. You can feel that right?"

Fred nodded, hiding her face a little behind her hair. Dawn smiled and reached down to tilt the woman's head up. "Then you're real. Because I'm real and you can feel me. There's something there."

She squeezed Fred's hand. "Now, let me put some pants on and we can see what the guys dug up. I don't want to distract Angel."

"Angel?" Fred asked, confused. Dawn smiled a little.

"Remind me to tell you about when he dated my sister," Dawn said in dramatic tones with an over emphasized sigh. "I swear, that thing for younger girls is going to get him in trouble one day."

Fred giggled at her blatant display of theatricality.

0oooo0oooo0

"So let me see if I understand," Gunn said, sitting in a nearby chair. "You're gonna do some weird demon blood ritual to see if you can keep the sister's head from exploding from these vision things?"

"Yup," Dawn said. She was laying down the ritual circle with the help of Wesley and Fred. Fred's incredible ability with geometry was helping a lot there. "Pretty much."

"Well, that's cool, I guess," Gunn said, sounding unconvinced. Dawn looked up from her work.

"You don't sound enthusiastic," Dawn said. Gunn shrugged.

"I don't do demon magic, I kill demons," Gunn said. Dawn nodded in sympathy.

"Fair enough, but if someone doesn't do something then Cordelia might die," Dawn said. "If I can do _anything_ to stop it, then I'm going to. I owe her that much."

"That's a lot of loyalty for one day of shoe shopping," Gunn remarked. Dawn laughed.

"What made you think 'her' was Cordelia?" Dawn asked with an arched eyebrow. She turned away before Gunn could ask any more. She watched Fred complete the inner symbols of the circle in chalk and checked her reference picture with a firm nod. Everything looked good so far.

"Alright ladies and gentlemen," Wesley said with confidence. "Here we are."

Cordelia, who'd been lounging on a nearby couch cradling her aching head looked up. "Oh. Goody."

"What next?" asked Angel. Dawn gestured to the center of the ritual area.

"Well," she said. "Next comes the part that will suck. Blood ritual time."

"Mr. Slade," Wesley began. "Could you direct everyone to their precise positions please?"

The six pointed star required everyone, one person at each point and Cordelia and Dawn in the center. Between the two of them was a simple knife of black metal. Cordelia looked at the knife a little distrustfully, but she was in too much pain from the aftermath of her vision to say much about it. Once they were settled Wesley began to chant in Latin. As he did so a green light began to leak from Dawn, covering the inscribed six pointed star. As the light began to grow brighter and brighter, Dawn picked up the knife and sliced her left palm open. She handed the knife to Cordelia who did the same.

Wesley reached the peak of the spell, yelling to be heard over the growing roar of winds kicked up by the powers at work. As the final words were spoken, Dawn reached out and grabbed Cordelia's hand tightly.

"Blood of my blood, forever more," Dawn whispered. There was a flash of light, and a shock wave that knocked all of those holding the points of the hexagram off their feet.

Dawn stood in an empty place, a white room with seemingly endless floor extending out past the edge of the horizon. She saw Cordelia, the lone spot of difference in color, small and curled tightly on the floor, dressed just as she had been before. Dawn knelt down next to Cordelia who appeared to be asleep, and reached out with an arm that glowed with green energy. She shook Cordelia, but nothing happened. Then the pain hit her.

Cordelia's pain rocketed through her and there was a struggle that could have lasted an hour or a second. Then Dawn began to get the upper hand. Timeless power began to strangle the conduit of agony within Cordelia, snuffing it out with a ruthless efficiency. Then the contact was broken by a flash of golden light that threw Dawn three meters clear of Cordelia.

"Did you truly think it would be this easy?" a mocking voice asked. Dawn narrowed her eyes and and got back to her feet. A stately looking black woman stood there in an ancient looking robe. Her arms were crossed and she wore a small smirk. She was haloed with gold and white light. Dawn's memories were screaming in her head.

"You are a Power," Dawn said. She narrowed her eyes. "You are Fallen. One of those punished by the First Will. What do you want with this woman?"

"I do not see how that is your concern, lower being," the statuesque woman shot back.

"Don't you dare talk down to me," Dawn replied. The green light around her intensified. "I was created by the First Will, and saw the beginning of the universe you... tramp. You're like what, fifth generation? I out-purity you on a scale that makes you look like a common whore. So don't go waving that crap around on me. Get to the point, or God help me I'll get there myself."

The Power stepped back a little at Dawn's anger.

"This woman has been chosen by the Powers," she said, watching Dawn carefully.

"And I'm not going to interfere with that," Dawn replied, though her anger still burned in her throat. "Just going to give her a little something to keep her alive longer, that's all."

"You are playing with a fate you do not understand," The Power said. Dawn shrugged.

"Maybe," Dawn said. "But I've already screwed up one fate. Might as well keep going. Now stop whatever it is you're doing to her."

"Or you'll what?" the black woman shot back.

"Or I'll kick your skanky butt out of here myself," Dawn replied. The green light around her grew stronger, almost solid looking. Blades of it extended from her hands as she advanced on the Power. The Power backed further away. Dawn paused for a moment.

"You can't beat me can you?" Dawn asked rhetorically. The black woman glared at her. Comprehension settled across Dawn's face. "You can't win like this. I am from this plane, you no longer exist here. The Slayer's blood, the Summers blood, mixed with my power, it's stronger in her isn't it? That's where we are, after all, Cordelia's soul?"

She took another step forward, the Power stepped back. Dawn smiled a dark smile that felt like it was an eon in the making. "This woman isn't your pawn and she isn't your plaything. She works for you, yeah, but if you want to claim her, you can sure as heck bet that I'm going to start asking around with your 'brothers and sisters'. Greater Spirits... you know, she thinks that you're gods? That you can help her save the world? But I know what you _really_ are. You're just as scared of the spawn of the Ogdru Jahad as you always were. Coward."

The Power said nothing, but was looking more and more troubled.

"You heard my sister," a voice said. "You can't stay here. Get with the going now."

Dawn turned, shock playing over her features. There, short, angry, and blonde as always was Buffy. The Power looked as confused as Dawn felt, but Buffy, wreathed in white light hefted an axe made of crystal in her hand. Her halo was purer, the warm light of a burning star compared to the glacial radiance of the Power.

"You cannot be here, you have died, it was foretold!" the Power nearly spat. Buffy smirked.

"But my blood lives on, doesn't it?" Buffy asked. "And now my sisters are in trouble. So here I am and there you are. And here is my new friend, Mr. Axe. Mr. Axe, meet Ms. Jasmine."

Buffy hurled Mr. Axe, and the crystal weapon tumbled end over end, embedding itself in 'Jasmine's' chest. The black woman curled around the blow, cold light bleeding from where the axe bit deep.

"You will pay for this," Jasmine hissed.

"Blah, blah, heard it all before," Buffy said, looking supremely uninterested. Jasmine vanished in a bang of light. Then it was just Dawn and Buffy. Dawn trembled a little as she walked up to her sister, looking fresh and happy in a way that Dawn only recalled from false memories. Buffy smiled at her, but there was a hint of sadness.

"I never thought I'd see you again," Dawn whispered. Buffy shook her head.

"I can't ever leave you Dawnie," Buffy said. Both sisters reached out a trembling hand. Dawn traced the curve of Buffy's jaw line. Buffy traced the scar over Dawn's left eye. "Oh Dawn, what happened to you?"

"I'm doing what you told me to," Dawn said. Her eyes were beginning to sting a little. "I had to get stronger. We needed you; but you're gone now. So I stepped up. Everyone was upset, but none of them could do it and I could."

Buffy removed her hand and turned to look at the curled up Cordelia. "Who'd have thought? Cordelia, a champion of the light. Blindsided me like a freight train without any lights. You have something to do, don't you?"

Dawn nodded, tearing herself away from her sister. She walked over to where Cordelia was constricted in agony. Dawn reached down and placed her hand gently on Cordelia's forehead. Green light flowed between them growing stronger and stronger. There was a flash and a sound like thunder. Cordelia's eyes snapped open. Her eyes that were now the color of spearmint; deep, dark, and green. She looked at Dawn and at Buffy standing beside her.

"Dawn?" she asked hoarsely. "Buffy? I could... feel you. Fighting. With... something else."

"Hush," Dawn said. She smiled, as she ran her hand through Cordelia's hair. Cordelia's body began to change before their eyes. Wing-like beams of green light sprouted from her back, questing at the air like the tendrils of an anemone beneath the ocean. Her green eyes locked with Dawn's and she heard Cordelia gasp.

"So that's what you look like," Cordelia whispered in awe. "I never knew. It's so beautiful..."

Her whisper faded as the light grew too intense. Suddenly they were back, floating standing up, hands still clenched tightly together. The two of them must have been three feet off the ground. The others watched from where they were spilled on the ground as wings of green light burst from Cordelia's back as her neck arched back. There was a flash, and a beacon of white gold light erupted from Cordelia's eyes and open mouth. Then the color changed slowly to green. Finally the spell collapsed and the two of them promptly fell onto the ground.

Dawn groaned, rolling onto her back. Absently she noticed that the sweatpants and tank top she was wearing had begun to steam. She lolled her head to the side to see Cordelia looking straight at her, pushing herself slowly off the ground. Though the light show had faded, Cordelia's glowing wings remained. Everyone else in the office appeared to shocked or disoriented to move. Dawn smiled at Cordelia.

"Sorry little sister," Dawn muttered, not entirely coherent. "You'll have to get a whole new wardrobe for that. Most of your stuff is going to clash. Maybe backless shirts?..."

"I never knew," Cordelia whispered. "I couldn't... I remember it."

"Remember what?" Dawn asked, raising an arm to rub her aching temples.

"What you actually look like," Cordelia said. Dawn grinned.

"Well it's kind of hard to see if you can't see through multiple dimensions at once," Dawn replied. "Even I'm not really sure what I look like outside this body."

"You're... very pretty," Cordelia said eventually. "Delicate and twisty like a snowflake. And big. Like, bigger than this planet big. Big."

Fred was looking at Dawn like she was the most interesting physics problem she'd ever met. Slade was nodding, as if that confirmed something he believed. Wesley and Angel, recipients of the 'Dawn Summers' spell, looked as if they were trying to process what they were seeing and failing. Cordelia looked over her shoulder at her wings and concentrated. There was a flash and she was standing upright across the room.

"Cool," Cordelia said appreciatively. Dawn laughed, and tried to sit up. Mr. Wink was there, gently lifting her with his massive paw.

"There's other stuff," Dawn said. "Your visions won't bother you anymore; at least they won't bother you like they didn't bother that Doyle guy. They'll hurt, but they won't kill you. You'll also be able to remember them more clearly. We can talk about it later. Right now all I want to do is soak for like a year in a hot tub."

Cordelia slumped slightly against a wall. "Ooh, that sounds nice. Maybe I'll get Phantom Dennis to draw me a bath. For a poltergeist who can't feel temperature, he's really good at that."

"Oh," Dawn said after a moment. She looked at Wesley. "One of the Powers was messing with Cordelia. It was dumb luck that I found her, but she was up to _something_. We... I managed to get rid of her, but she was really pissed at me. I have the feeling that she was trying to do something; something that I didn't like. Maybe hurt Cordelia, maybe side track her visions. I can't say. She wasn't really forthcoming. Her name is Jasmine, I think."

Slade's eyes narrowed to tiny slits when he heard this, but he said nothing.

"A Power was messing with her?" Angel asked. "I'm confused."

"Not all the Powers play by the rules," Slade spoke up, dark and certain. "I should know. One of them tricked me so that I ended up in Quor-toth for an eon. Not all of them agree with the others, and they have all kinds of contradictory opinions. Which is why I don't trust them."

"They've helped us in the past," Angel objected. Wesley was looking contemplative.

"Sure, they help," Slade said darkly. "But what if their opinion of 'good' isn't yours? I knew of several Powers that thought if they could just erase free will, misery would go away. They thought that because of embodied creatures' inferiority when given the choice they'd always choose evil."

There was silence at this proclamation. Angel turned to Wesley.

"Right then," Angel said. "Look up Jasmine then would you? Sooner rather than later."

0oooo0oooo0

Slade hung up his last suit inside his travel bag. He looked up to see Fred watching him. He raised a dark eyebrow.

"What are you doing?" Fred asked. Slade exhaled slowly and looked down at his suitcase.

"I don't know," he admitted, looking back at her. "I don't really have anyone left. Nothing to do. Just a dragon who can flatten buildings and torch the countryside. Not really marketable skills when all you want to do is start a brewery. Aurora offered to let me stay with her for a while, sort things out. I figured I'd go. From the sound of it, they need help there pretty badly, and I owe her a little for agreeing to help me. Even if it didn't end up like I wanted it to. I have some gold and jewels left from when I crossed over from Quor-toth. I was a wealthy man there. I was thinking of buying a bar; maybe serve to demons or something."

Fred nodded shyly. "Aurora is interesting isn't she? A puzzle, an equation."

"She is that," Slade said. He placed a pair of balled up socks in his bag. "She wants to be something that she isn't. She's stubborn though. She may actually make it."

"I...I think I might like to come with you," Fred said. Slade straightened his coat jacket.

"Really?" he asked. "Why is that?"

"She... well she doesn't treat me like I'm going to break or something," Fred laughed nervously. "The only other person like that is Angel, and even he is too 'gallant' sometimes. I think I need to do something worth doing, get out on my own a little bit. I don't know if they need me there, but I can do lots of things that they might need. Engineer weapons, traps..."

"...Brewery equipment?" Slade asked hopefully. Fred laughed a little.

"That too," she said. "That's easy."

"You're hired!" Slade said with a huge grin. His needle sharp teeth glittered in the light. "My very first employee! I'll need some sketches and cost analysis by the end of the week."

When Fred saw him rubbing his hands together she realized quite suddenly that he wasn't kidding in the slightest. She looked hesitant, and he looked up from his greedy planning.

"What?" he asked. She shrugged.

"Nothing, just I... I don't know much about it," Fred offered weakly. Slade walked over to her and put a hand gamely around her should, extending his other hand to an unseen horizon.

"Bah!" Slade said. "I have the vision and the money. You have the brainpower. Together, my dear, we shall make _history!_"

If either of them had any idea how true that was they probably would have choked right then and there.

0oooo0oooo0

Dawn stood facing the greatest challenge that she'd ever faced in her two short years of existence. Glorificus and Prince Nuada had nothing on this one. Looking up the long driveway to the beautiful house that overlooked the rest of LA, she released a deep sigh. 1346 Exeter Drive; occasional home of a Ms. Vanessa Mercury and Mr. Hank Summers.

She walked up the driveway slowly, making her way to the door. She raised her hand and rang the doorbell once. A man's voice could be heard on the other side of the door. There was some scuffling and the door opened. Dawn stared up into the face of a man she'd never truly met before and she fought with herself not to spit on his face.

"Hi Dad," she said in a venomous tone. "Miss me?

"Dawnie?" Hank Summers asked, blinking away his surprise. "What are you doing here? And what happened to your face?"

"I'm here to collect what you owe us and life, in that order," Dawn replied. She breezily pushed past Hank and on into his house. It was beautiful, Dawn thought, if a bit ostentatious. Oh well, that was the way of international success. She turned around and looked at her still dumbstruck father.

"Honey, who is it?" a painfully young voice called around the corner. Dawn gave her father a twisted smirk and crossed her arms in front of her chest.

"That's a good question, isn't it Hank," Dawn said conversationally. "I'm not sure myself. Am I someone you know? A passing acquaintance perhaps. Am I someone who shares a part of your blood? Probably the best part if that's true. Am I your daughter? I ask myself that ever since Mom and Buffy died. Never did come to a conclusion. But I know one thing that I am to you. I am someone you _owe_. In a big way."

"It's nothing," Hank called back. "Just someone on business, popping in for a minute."

"How perceptive Hank," she said. She pulled a piece of computer paper out of her robes and handed it to her father, who took it uncomprehendingly. "I had a good friend of Buffy's do some digging Hank. Turns out you owe me and Buffy some back child support. I'm taking all of it. All _half a million_ of it, Hank. And I'm taking it right _now_. You will write me a check for the first fifty grand and you'll transfer the rest to that account within three weeks."

"Or what?" Hank challenged. "You go to your gang buddies? Those people you and Buffy hung out with?"

"No," Dawn said. She allowed her eyes to glow just a little as she took a menacing step towards the man she'd once thought of as a father if a sucky one. Those days were over though. "I will do much worse than that Hank. I'll destroy your career. Completely. I will spread evidence of what you did to us and a number of other things you probably didn't all over the city. I will make the LA Times burn you at the stake. And you'll never earn another cent so long as you live; at least once you get out of prison. Not all of Buffy's friends were in low places, Hank."

"You don't have the ability; you're lying," Hank blustered. Dawn was now only arm's length away from her father. She slowly and gently reached up, gather a bead of sweat rolling down the side of his face and holding it up to his eyes.

"Your body thinks I'm not," Dawn said. "Money. Now. Or the bimbo gets a rundown on how her sugar daddy isn't going to be putting out anything for her anymore. In detail."

Hank swallowed, but he took out his checkbook and began writing. Finally he tore the paper off and handed it to her. She looked at the numbers and the signature and nodded to herself. She folded it and tucked it into her belt.

"I'd say it's been a pleasure dad," Dawn said. "But that would be a lie."

She turned around and started walking away only to pause. Her head still facing away from him so he couldn't see the tears building in her eyes, she spoke in a low voice. "And if I find out that you didn't deliver, that you voided this check, then a lot of paparazzi are going to find out that famous CEO Hank Summers didn't bother to go to his ex-wife and his daughter's funeral. They'll love that one. So don't fuck with me Hank. Once the money is mine we're done. You don't call me, see me, do anything to me, and I'll do the same for you. Just pray you never have a reason to deal with me ever again."

She was proud of herself. She managed to make it three blocks before throwing up into a nearby hedgerow. Wiping her mouth as she got to her feet she was surprised by how much lighter she felt. No matter how nervous and angry and sad that had made her, she had needed to do that. Hopefully she'd convinced the bastard that he could win her forgiveness with money. If he did that was fine. At least she would have money.

0oooo0oooo0

Dawn walked in the door to see Cordelia on the couch, frantically talking to Gunn. With the money (or check at least) in pocket, she was pretty much ready to go. Slade had said he was packed, as well as his 'lovely assistant'. Fred was a mystery to Dawn. Why she wanted to come to Sunnyhell from L.A. was complete insanity to Dawn, but whatever. Slade and Mr. Wink seemed to be looking after her alright.

Cordelia jumped to her feet and ran over to Dawn. "Dawn, thank you so much!"

"Huh?" Dawn asked articulately.

"I had a vision and I didn't feel like I was dying! It was awesome!"

"You're welcome," Dawn said in a bemused voice. Cordelia's expression changed.

"There's a problem though," Cordelia said. "The vision; it was about Sunnydale. Something is going to happen in a few hours, maybe a day; something really big. I don't know what, but I had a vision of a bunch of... well, demon bikers. They were coming from the north."

"Highway forty seven," Dawn muttered. Cordelia nodded.

"I think so," she said. "I also had a vision of Willow wearing a black dress. I don't know what it means, but..."

"But it's time to go home," Dawn finished. "Thanks Cordy. I promise to come visit you guys at least once in a month. Have to check up on my new sister, after all."

Cordelia beamed at her and gave Dawn a rather girly hug, complete with small amounts of squeeing. Dawn extracted herself almost unwillingly. She turned to look at the lobby. "Slade, Mr. Wink, Fred! Time to go; the Hellmouth express waits for no entity!"

"We're coming Aurora," Slade called back. He, Fred, and Mr. Wink walked up. They'd said their goodbyes already, but it had been particularly hard for the Fang Gang to say goodbye to Fred. Still, Dawn was touched by the amount of trust Angel had put in her to make sure Fred was taken care of.

Angel got up from the chair he'd been sitting in and walked over to Dawn. He extended a hand.

"You've done a good job," he said. "Buffy would be proud."

"Coming from you," Dawn said, taking the hand and pulling the surprised Angel into a hug. "That means a lot. Keep not-dying. I don't need another funeral to go to."

"Mine's long over with," he said. Dawn laughed into his chest.

"Hmm, guess I should tell my new sister to move on then. No sense falling in love with a dead guy," Dawn said. Angel choked, and Dawn looked up at him very seriously. "I was in her soul; I have a vague idea of what she feels for you. But if you hurt _another_ one of my sisters like you hurt Buffy, I will come after you Angel. I mean that."

She let him go and stepped back. Angel appeared to be in deep thought. She grinned.

"Think about it, but don't think about it too much," Dawn said. She gestured to the rest of her traveling companions. She pointed to her own eyes with two fingers and pointed them at him, her smile growing dark. "Be seeing you."

The group of them moved to stand in the hotel's lobby. As they lined up, Dawn looked down the line to each of them and nodded. There was a flash of green light and then they were gone.

"I'm going to miss her," Cordelia said looking at where Dawn had been standing.

"Me too," Wesley said, looking to where he'd last seen Fred.

"Don't worry," Angel said. He reached out and put a hand on Cordelia's shoulder which she grabbed firmly. Angel looked at it in thoughtful surprise. "I think we'll be seeing them again. Call it a hunch."


	7. Chapter 6 Bargaining

Chapter 6: Bargaining

The vampire clawed its way out of the soil, dressed in a cheap suit, grave dirt underneath his fingernails. It cautiously sniffed the air. The silvery edge of a spear glittered in the moonlight. It had just a few seconds to realize that its head was separated from its body. The vampire disintegrated into a pile of dust.

"Ah Sunnydale," a dry girl's voice commented. Dawn Summers looked at her handiwork with a disgruntled expression. "Home sweet home."

"It is rather... infested," Slade replied. Still dressed in his fashionable suit he, Mr. Wink, and Fred trailed along behind her.

"Understatement of the millennium," Dawn shot back. "All right guys, sorry about the shortcut. Here we are."

The bunch of them finished crossing out of the graveyard and onto the street. The sign glowing slightly in the distance for the 'Magic Box'. Dawn holstered her spear and took a deep breath. Mr. Wink walked up beside her and put a hand on her shoulder. She turned to him gratefully.

"Thanks," she said. She forged ahead, walking up to the shop door and opening it. The bells tinkled a little as Dawn stepped into the shop. The familiar smell of the books and various herbs hit her and a wave of homesickness passed over her. Which was quite silly, seeing as she was home.

"One moment," a distracted British voice called out. Dawn sucked in a deep breath and walked in, gesturing for the others to follow her. Mr. Wink and Slade seemed to be impressed. Fred just looked like she wanted to keep herself between Dawn and Slade, gazing fitfully around.

"I'm so terribly sorry," Giles said, coming around the corner with his head down. "I was just putting something in the back room and I..."

He raised his head and his eyes took Dawn's appearance in. She smiled at him.

"It's okay Giles," she said. "I'm home. And I brought us some help."

Slade and Mr. Wink waved at him, while Fred peered over Dawn's shoulder at Giles like a suspicious rabbit.

"Are you going to help the customer," came a shrewish voice. A blonde woman dressed in a sensible shirt and khaki pants came around the corner. "Or are you going to drop the ball on this one like you did the... Oh. Dawn."

"Yes Anya," Dawn said. "It's me. Told you I'd be back."

"You weren't kidding when you said you've been training. I can feel you and I don't even have my powers. Though you look like you were put through a blender."

Dawn's grin became slightly larger and a little more feral. "It's not that bad. Besides."

There was flare of power and she was behind Anya and Giles, putting an arm over each shoulder. "I learned all kinds of interesting things. I missed you guys."

She pulled both of them into a hug, not caring how awkward it was. "I'm glad to be back."

At first they were hesitant, but eventually both of them were hugging her fiercely. She didn't really keep track of time, but their group hug lasted long enough for Mr. Wink and Slade to start perusing the shelves. Fred seemed to be trying to hide under a table. Giles looked up.

"I don't know what to say," he said. "After you left I had feared the worst. You've been injured Dawn..."

"It was necessary, Giles," Dawn said. "Please believe me."

"Given you past history," Giles began quietly. Dawn shook her head.

"No," she replied. "Come patrolling with me tonight and I'll show you what I've learned. Until then why don't we not argue."

Giles looked extremely dubious but nodded. Anya looked less perturbed. Dawn turned to her companions. "I would like to introduce some friends. Mr. Wink is our resident troll and person who hits things."

Mr. Wink sketched a bow, surprisingly nimble for his size. Dawn continued on. "The man in the overpriced suit is someone you've actually seen before. A returned exile from Quor-toth. I accidentally let him back into the world when I was strung up on the tower. I believe you saw him fly out of the portal."

"He's a dragon?" Anya blurted. Slade bowed.

"Winston Slade, at your service," he said.

"And our other is Mr. Slade's new employee," Dawn said pointing to where Fred huddled nearly under the table, looking at some book she'd picked off the shelf with interest. "Winnifred Burkle, though she goes by Fred most of the time. She's a genius physicist that was exiled to Pylea for five years or so. Angel brought her back while the whole Glory mess was going on. I have a feeling my exerted power made the gateways open more easily, but I don't know for sure."

Fred gave a small wave, peering at them from behind reading glasses she'd pulled out of her flannel shirt.

"What does he need a physicist for?" Anya asked pointedly.

"Making weapons?" Dawn offered.

"Making beer," Slade corrected with relish. "I have a dream you see to own a brewery. A good brewery. Perhaps making good English ales. I've become partial to them."

"Hmm," Giles said. "A laudable goal. Why here?"

"Aurora did me a favor," Slade responded. "So I thought I'd repay her with a little assistance. Goodness knows you'll need it around here. And I like to hit things. A lot."

"No argument form us," Anya proclaimed loudly. "Some English beer might help us keep people around. I mean, Giles was just about to up and leave when you showed up."

"Really?" Dawn asked, giving Giles a lost puppy look.

"Yes, well I," Giles began. "Oh bugger it all. I'll have to cancel the ticket now that you're back in town. I just... I felt that I wasn't really needed here."

"Are you kidding me!" Dawn exclaimed. "I need a Watcher mister. I may be smarter than Buffy was, but that doesn't mean I know half the things I need to. I need a teacher. You're all I have left."

Giles blushed a little. "Well I..."

"Stuff it," Dawn said. Giles subsided at the finality in her tone.

"Have you seen the others yet, gone by your house?" Anya asked.

"No," Dawn said. Her tone was flat. "That was next."

"Well, I daresay you should," Giles said. Dawn nodded.

"I will once I..." she trailed off. It felt like something was trailing a hot poker down her spine. A massive distortion was moving towards town. The energy of the Ogdru Jahad. The energy of demons.

"Aurora?" Slade asked. Dawn shook her head. She looked over at the rest of the people around her.

"Something bad is coming," Dawn said. The muting filth of the Hellmouth was stunting her senses. Slade raised his head, sniffing the air.

"They are coming from the north, aren't they?" Slade said, cracking his knuckles. Mr. Wink hefted his cleaver and his mechanical hand cranked as he flexed digits the size of most adult human forearms.

"That's what Cordelia said," Dawn replied. She looked over at Giles. "You want to see what I can do? Then come with me."

"All right," Giles said. "But what is this all..."

0oooo0oooo0

"... about?"

There was a green flash. Giles stood beneath a "Welcome to Sunnydale" sign. Dawn stood on the center of the road looking at a pack on oncoming headlights. Motorcycle headlights. Next to her on her left stood Mr. Wink. To her right stood the man called Slade, his open suit coat flapping. Wisps of steam began to rise from his clenched fists, and the cruel smile on his face was almost alien looking. She looked at them.

"All right boys," she said. She turned her head to look at the oncoming horde. "Shock and awe?"

Mr. Wink nodded. Dawn looked over at Slade. The dragon's smile grew unnaturally broad. It was as if his lips were stretching further than a human jaw would truly allow.

"I can live with that," he said.

"Then on three," Dawn replied. She looked over at Giles. "Get down so they don't see you. This is going to be ugly. One, two..."

Then night became like the day. A pillar of green light and a raging column of flame pierced the heavens. Along with this display was a roar from Mr. Wink so loud that overpowered the sounds of thirty Harley Davidson engines at once. The bikers screeched to a halt, kicking up dust.

Dawn strode out of the green light, her hair and eyes glowing white. The spear she had clenched in her hand was surrounded by a corona of lightning that snapped and hissed. The green faded behind her as she walked out while the column of flame grew wider.

"Good evening," Dawn called out. She planted the butt of her spear in front of her. "Looks like you were heading into town tonight. Why?"

"To wreck it," the lead demon called out with a malicious smile.

"Really?" Dawn asked. "I don't see your permit."

"We don't need a permit. The Slayer is dead. Who is going to stop us? You?"

"Hm," Dawn said, putting a finger to her lips. "I suppose so. This is our town now boys. Turn around and go home before you get hurt. Are we clear on that?"

The lead demon started to laugh at her, clutching at his stomach. There was a green flash, and Dawn did something with her arm. The demon's laugh cut off abruptly, and his head fell forward, blood fountaining skyward from his severed head. Dawn looked around as Mr. Wink pulled up beside her, tusks bared.

"Wrong answer," Dawn said. Her voice was almost a whisper, but it carried clearly to every person on the road. "Try again."

The stunned silence continued for a moment. A demon further back raised a fist. "Who are you?"

"My name is Aurora," she said. "Champion of the Dawn. And you unlucky guys happened to show up just when I got back."

The pillar of flame grew even wider. Many of the demons were eying it warily. It was now the diameter of most of the road. Dust swirled, kicked into the air by thermals. Dawn's hair floated in the artificial wind, a mane of white light tossed around as if she were floating in the ocean. Giles, from his position on a nearby ridge, could see all of the figures clear as day in the reddish gold light from the pillar of flame. There was a shadow inside; a shadow that was moving. Silence reigned for perhaps thirty seconds. Then all hell broke loose.

The remaining demons split up in a roar of bike engines. Two thirds of the demons dismounted from their bikes to attack Dawn and Mr. Wink. Giles shook his head; how a nine foot troll got such a name would no doubt be an interesting story. Nine of the bikers peeled off and zoomed towards Sunnydale, perhaps two miles distant.

Even as the bikers were dismounting, Mr. Wink charged. His bellow shook even the rocks that Giles was hiding behind as the troll's massive metal fist came up and quite suddenly flew forward, coming away from his arm. Perhaps seventy pounds of steel crushed the head of the first demon even before he was off his bike. There was a whirring sound, and the fist flew back to the arm. In the flickering firelight, Giles could just barely make out a length of extremely sturdy looking chain connected the fist to the arm.

The Troll's normal arm held his giant cleaver, and as he reached the demons' lines, he swept it forward destroying three bikes in a single swing and tossing their riders aside like a child's toys. Giles watched in awe as Mr. Wink fought a battle of twenty against one. No, Giles thought on further consideration, it was twenty individuals against a team of two.

Dawn was even more of a surprise. With the wicked spear in her hand that she used with a master's proficiency, the girl was everywhere. She teleported quickly and efficiently, moving to cover Mr. Wink's headlong charge. A slice here, a stab there. It was brutal. She was so fast that she could use Mr. Wink's more lumbering form like a piece of static terrain, moving around him like a river around a steadfast rock. The little girl, who he could remember being excited about going to middle school and who had been tearfully bound at the top of the tower was... gone, he realized.

Not for the first time Giles was struck by the inhumanity of the world, where fifteen and sixteen year old girls were asked to save the world. Because no one else could. Dawn was screaming as she fought, Giles realized. He could just barely see her mouth open wide in a howl as she decapitated another demon. It was... terrifying.

He was shaken from his thoughts by another rumbling. As the line of bikes shot around the flaming ring that was blocking the roadway, a long taloned arm as big around as his car reached out and carelessly swatted two of the bikes. Riders tumbled. The remaining seven kicked their bikes into high gear.

At this point, those who remained in the rear formation turned their bikes and began to run for wherever they came from. A pair of huge black wings pierced the swirling flames and beat at the air. In a huge rush of wind, a black scaled beast longer than a school bus soared above.

"Slade!" Dawn screeched, covered in demon blood. "Get the stragglers! Let one live to spread the news!"

There was an answering roar as the dragon swept down, incinerating two bikes with flames from its fanged maw. Dawn looked over her shoulder at the receding tail lights of the bikes.

"God damn it!" she cursed, her face pale. Giles carefully picked his way over the rocks to her position, and she turned to look at him.

Giles finally understood what Dawn had said to him before she left; and he felt bone weary. She was a warrior now; the others would take longer to see it, but after this display of incredible martial prowess he knew. Spattered in six colors of blood, her hair matted with some unknowable filth, and her spear glittering in the descending fires. Her hair and eyes were still glowing from within and she looked at him and gave him a sad smile; wide like her childish smiles had once been. But there was an understanding there. And Giles hated himself more just a little in that moment.

"I need to go after the stragglers," Dawn chorused in a weary voice. "No telling what they'll try after that. Slade can handle the fleeing guys. Could you and Mr. Wink stay here and make sure none of these guys get up again? I don't honestly know if we killed them all."

"I will do so," Giles said quietly. "That is a very well thought out plan."

Dawn turned away, and her glowing eyes were focused somewhere else.

"Dawn," Giles said in a gentle voice. She looked at him, appearing tired down to her bones. It was all he could do not to flinch away from the pupil-less gaze. "I-I- I am proud of you. Well done."

She nodded and turned to go.

"I... I know what it is like to become a new person," Giles said. "What you've become. I know that cost of that. I haven't a chance to... thank you for what you've done "

"And you'll never have to," Dawn replied. She smiled, a little less weary, and then she was gone. Giles turned to a demon that was beginning to move again. He picked up a discarded sword and decapitated it with a snarl. The night's work was just beginning.

0oooo0oooo0

The spell wavered, a column of red light centered over a grave. Ripples of magic extended out from Willow while Xander, Tara, and Anya acted as assisting anchors. The sheer power involved was somewhat daunting. But Willow had it under control. It was working. At least, Xander hoped that it was working.

There was clatter that drew the other's attention. Two demons of some kind in biker leathers were running through the graveyard, looking fearfully over their shoulders. The one who was straggling behind suddenly fell to his knees in a flash of light. Xander could make out something else moving. A long spear, or pole, stabbed down, and the demon made a gurgling noise. The remaining demon looked desperate and looked about ready to lunge at Xander. Xander honestly wasn't sure if the demon wanted to eat him, take him hostage, or hide behind him, but whatever the green skinned thing with six horns on its head was thinking, it never made it.

There was a flash and a woman with glowing green-white hair obscuring her face was kneeling on the ground a foot in front of Xander. One arm was extended, and a shorter looking spear was planted firmly in the ground in front of the charging demon. The demon's own inertia impaled it soundly on the weapon. It let out a pitiful sounding squeak, and the woman withdrew the spear. It retracted some more and the woman stood up, whirling the weapon around her forearm and slicing the demon's head from its shoulders.

She straightened up fully and her hair began to fade from glowing to a brunette streaked through with green every so often. Of course it was kind of hard to tell with all the various colored... fluids that were covering it. The woman sighed and very carefully wiped the edge of the spear off on the grass in front of her, before slinging into the holster on her back. She turned her head and for the first time Xander got a good look at her face.

He almost dropped the ritual implements that he'd been holding. Looking at him was the scarred face of a much older, much scarier looking Dawn Summers. Her eyes were no longer the color they had been, and her hair and even her skin looked different. But the Summers smile was still there. That smile quickly faded to a frown of incomprehension as she took in the scene in front of her.

"What the," she whispered, her voice husky. Then she collapsed to the ground, clutching her head. "No. NO!"

Willow's chant reached a cadence as Dawn let loose an incredible howl. Tears were running down her face. The cry faded as the spell completed itself and Willow looked around in some confusion.

"Did it work?" she asked. Only now did she notice the girl/woman rolling around on the ground clutching at her head and wearing strange looking armor. Dawn got to her knees in front of Xander and looked right at him.

"What have you DONE!" Dawn screeched. She held out a hand that glowed with green power. There was a snap and a fully reconstituted and extremely confused looking Buffy was laying on the grass next to her. She moved over and cradled Buffy like a child while Buffy scrabbled at her armor in confusion. Buffy's eyes were wide with panic and her breathing was irregular.

Dawn made hushing and soothing noises, crooning to Buffy. Finally after what must have been ten minutes of agonizing twitching, Buffy seemed to calm down. Her wide eyes closed, and she snuggled into Dawn's armor like a three year old.

Dawn's voice was bitter as she hissed at them in disgust. "You desecrate this place with... that... that... I don't even know what to call it. You bring my sister back from the dead. You do all of this... stupid stuff; and you don't even dig up her casket?"

Willow looked at the grizzled Dawn in shock, tears on her face as the realization hit her. Dawn gathered her arms underneath her sister and stood tall. It struck Xander just how tiny Buffy really was. She seemed so much larger than life, yet Dawn lifted her up, only staggering a little. "I'm... I'm taking my sister home. I don't want to see any of you... for a few days at least. I'm so angry right now, I think I'll do something I might regret. Find Giles. He'll be with some friends on the north edge of town, the highway forty seven exit. Tell him to come to the house with Slade and Mr. Wink. Pick them up, but take a truck. Mr. Wink is rather large. Anya, where's Fred?"

"At the house?" Anya responded hesitantly. Dawn narrowed her eyes.

"Good," she said. Her voice carried a cold anger that was as scary as Buffy on her worst nights. "I'll see you tomorrow. Come by around sunset. Now if the rest of you know what's good for you, you'll stay out of my sight until then."

She flashed.

0oooo0oooo0

Dawn laid out Buffy on her bed, but she was unable to get Buffy's arms from around her neck. The Slayer strength was kicking in. Dawn looked down at the pure white down comforter and sighed. This would be a mess, but it hardly mattered. Gently she crawled into bed next to her sister, wrapping her small body up as best Dawn could while wearing bloodstained armor.

"Why did... did they take me away?" Buffy whispered. Dawn stroked her hair. She did her best to guess who 'they' were.

"They were afraid," Dawn said. "They thought you were in a bad place, a hell dimension."

She wasn't sure if Buffy understood, but she could feel her older sister start to sob, her chest heaving. Dawn held her tightly.

"You weren't in a hell dimension," Dawn ventured. Buffy started shaking even more as Dawn's gut twisted. The horrible _wrongness_ of the spell that had been used on Buffy had hit her as it completed itself. Maybe it was the fact that she was basically a clone of Buffy, but whatever the reason, it had stung like fire and acid and the kind of filth you couldn't just wash off. The kind of filth that covered her sister; and her too, just a little bit.

"It was... beautiful," Buffy said. Dawn felt her heart break at Buffy's tone. She knew _exactly _where Buffy had been. Then she was crying tears; tears of joy, tears of confusion, tears of compassion.

"I know," Dawn said through her closing throat. "It's... the song. The song that made everything."

Buffy twisted a little in her arms. Her face was as coherent as Dawn had seen it yet, tear tracks running down and eyes wide. "You know?"

"I was there," Dawn said with a smile. She felt distant as truly ancient memories surfaced. "I remember it when it first started. There's nothing like it is there?"

"No," Buffy said. She shuddered into Dawn, curling up into her sister's body. "Does this make you the older sister?"

"Maybe," Dawn said with a whimsical smile. "But you'll always be my big sister."

Things began to settle down after that. After three more hours and multiple promises not to leave her, Buffy finally went to sleep. Dawn carefully extracted herself, peeling off her armor and leaving only the under shirt and pants on. They were relatively clean at least. She very carefully walked out of the room and into her own. After a quick change, and leaving her bloodstained armor next to her collection of stuffed rabbits in pinks, beiges, and tans, she walked back out into the hall. There was a sound and a thump downstairs. Dawn's eyes widened, and she gripped the knife Buffy had once given her. It was the only weapon she still carried, but after the last subjective year, she never went unarmed. Mr. Wink was fond of 'surprise exams' during the middle of the night.

Carefully, she crept down the stairs to find one person she was expecting, and one person she certainly was not. Cordelia looked up at Dawn along with Fred, and both of them had real concern in their eyes.

"Aurora," Fred began. "What happened?"

"Something really... unexpected," Dawn said after a moment of contemplation. She descended the stairs with as soft a tread as she could manage. With a deft twirl she sheathed the curved dagger Buffy had given her. She looked at Cordelia and cocked her gore spattered head in a question.

"I came as fast as I could," Cordelia added. She looked out of sorts. "I felt something... awful just a few hours ago. I had to get in the car and make sure you were okay; it felt like my blood was on fire. I tried calling, but no one was home, and my vision... it was making me nervous."

"There was a good reason for all of that," Dawn replied. "But Cordelia, you'll have to go see it. Be really, really quiet though. Promise me!"

The last was so desperate that Cordelia just nodded. Dawn sighed. "Buffy's room."

As Cordelia ascended the steps, Fred looked at Dawn. Dawn walked past Fred and into the kitchen, slamming her head against the counter top. "Something happened. Someone decided to... use dark magics to bring my sister back from the dead."

"You mean the one who was the reason you went on your travels?" Fred asked. Dawn nodded with a desperate expression on her face. She turned around, putting her back to the island and leaning forward. Fred fidgeted slightly when Dawn's silence stretched out.

"And I think she came back with superpowers, just like she used to be," Dawn said with a slightly hysterical laugh. "Was all this... everything that I did for no reason?"

Fred watched Dawn wringing her hands and cocked her head to the side. "I don't think so. I don't think Slade or Mr. Wink would say so either."

Dawn walked over to the fridge, opened it, and pulled out a can of soda. Taking a deep pull from it she flopped down on the couch next to Fred. She placed the can on the table in front of her and massaged her temples.

"Thanks Fred," Dawn said after a moment. "That means a lot to me. You have _no_ idea how useless I used to be."

"As useless as a physicist in Pylea?" Fred asked. Dawn couldn't help but laugh at that, though she muffled herself as best as she was able.

"Actually, yeah," Dawn said. She leaned back to look straight up at the ceiling. "God this is screwy."

Fred said nothing, but fiddled with a sketch pad in her hands. Dawn raised an eyebrow and reached over. With deft fingers she plucked it from Fred's hands, despite mild protests. The yellow legal pad was covered in precise designs and annotations. A crossbow of some kind stared up at her. Dawn put as much of her intellect into comprehending the design as she could. It only took her about a minute to figure it out. She turned to look at Fred.

"Can you make this?" Dawn asked.

"Well," Fred said wringing her hands. "I don't know. Maybe, but I need parts and equipment and a few..."

"Done," Dawn said with a final tone. "We'll talk about this once things settle just a little bit. Xander and you should talk about it."

Saying his name left a strangely bitter taste in Dawn's mouth. She moved past it as best she was able. "That was really impressive. It could change the way we fight."

"Oh, that was just a doodle," Fred said with an embarrassed blush. " I can make better things than that, I think."

"Then do it," Dawn said. "I need them. We need them. I... I dunno. I need to get back upstairs to Buffy."

Fighting through protesting muscles that felt like they were screaming at her Dawn got to her feet. She gave Fred a grin. "Thanks. For helping, and being here."

"You're welcome," Fred said in a tiny voice, hunching over her sketchpad with renewed determination. A spark of an idea within her was beginning to flame to life.

0oooo0oooo0

Cordelia was standing right outside Buffy's door, her normally dark complexion strangely gray looking. Dawn shot her a mirthless smile when Cordelia pointed a single finger in the room. Dawn nodded once to Cordelia's incredulous expression. With a sigh, Dawn motioned for her to follow and the two of them walked into the upstairs bathroom. Even before the door was completely shut, words were spilling out of Cordelia's mouth.

"She's _alive?_" Cordelia squeaked. Dawn stripped off her shirt and threw it aside, turning the shower head on full blast.

"Yup," Dawn said.

"How?" Cordelia asked.

"Magic," Dawn said. Cordelia shot her a venomous look and Dawn sighed. "Okay; Willow did some kind of resurrection spell, I don't know what. But it was bad. Really bad. And how did you get here in three hours by car?"

"Drove ninety the whole way," Cordelia commented offhand as Dawn stuck her head under the faucet and reached for her shampoo with a grumble. "No deflecting. Are we sure that's really...her?"

"I know," Dawn said. She reconsidered that a little. "Well, I have a darn good reason to think so, anyway."

"Why's that?" Cordelia asked. Dawn said nothing for a moment as she worked the shampoo into her extremely filthy hair. After one rinse she reached for the bottle again. What a mess.

"Do you really want to know?" Dawn asked. "Because if I tell you, you will never be able to tell another soul. Not one. Not unless Buffy asks you to."

"I..." Cordelia began. She stopped. "Yeah I do want to know. I... she still saved me you know? When we did that blood sister thing. Or was that just my imagination?"

"I don't think so," Dawn said, but her voice was thoughtful. "But I don't know. Okay, you saw some freaky stuff right? When we were bonded?"

"Yeah," Cordelia said slowly.

"Hm," Dawn muttered, rinsing the last of the demon gunk out of her hair and reaching for the faucet to turn the water off. "Oh well, worry about it later. Now, the reason I know it's Buffy is how she reacted. She wasn't happy to be back; she was scared, hurt, and confused. She kept crying about... about the Song."

"Why do I get the sense you don't mean Bon Jovi?" Cordelia asked. Dawn smiled.

"The Song, Cordelia," Dawn said with a roll of her eyes. "The Song that created the world. She heard it."

Cordelia still looked confused and Dawn reached for a towel and started vigorously drying her hair. She felt a slight pang as she looked at the unicorn towel that she'd been using just a short while ago. It felt like a century. "I'll tell you this. She wasn't in a hell dimension like they feared. Pretty much the exact opposite."

"Oh God," Cordelia said, raising a hand to her mouth. Dawn nodded grimly.

"Yup, no more Heaven for you; now go Slay some more why don't you?"

"Is there anything that I can do?" she asked. Dawn looked up at Cordelia with a suddenly trembling lip. Dawn walked forward and hurled herself at Cordelia.

"Give me a hug?" Dawn asked. Strong arms wrapped around her and suddenly she just snapped. Tears were pouring down her face. Cordelia let the pair of them fall to the bathroom floor as Dawn let months of pain out of herself; a whole reality that she'd constructed because of Buffy's death. So that something like this wouldn't have been necessary. She vaguely remembered asking if she'd been useless. Cordelia wasn't putting up with self pity though. She'd berated her at length, all while holding her and running her hand through Dawn's hair.

Finally the tears and awful pain in Dawn's chest subsided. She looked up at Cordelia and smiled a teary smile. "Thanks. I needed to get that out of my system."

"No prob," Cordelia said with a wry grin. "This shirt was soo last season anyway. Now come on kid. Let's get your shirt back on before Willow gets the wrong idea about us."

Dawn gave a rasping laugh, pulling her mesh shirt over her head. She pulled her hair through and walked over to open the door. "Yeah, gosh wouldn't she be thrilled. Well, I think I'm going off to be with Buffy. I'm probably going to have to sleep there."

"Is there another chair or something?" Cordelia asked. Dawn raised an eyebrow. "What? I just want to help. Maybe having more people with her blood in them might help stabilize her."

Dawn gave her a flat look. "Is Wesley rubbing off on you or something?"

"Okay," Cordelia relented. "He mentioned it might help when I started running out the door. Of course, we thought you were in trouble at the time."

"Thought so," Dawn said with a laugh, walking down the hall and opening Buffy's door gently. The two of them very quietly moved into Buffy's room. Even so, Buffy stirred, rolling over to look up at them.

"Hnpgh," Buffy said, her eyes once again panicked. Dawn was surprised when it was Cordelia that gently went over to Buffy and knelt by the bed. Then Cordelia started humming a seemingly formless tune. Yet something was jerking a chain in the back of Dawn's mind. Buffy too seemed to calm when she heard it. Almost without thinking Dawn began to sing, adding her voice to Cordelia's. Then Dawn remembered as the two of them sang. It was a fragment, a tiny sliver of the Great Song. But it was working, and as they sang Buffy's eyelids drooped until they finally fluttered shut.

Gently Dawn crawled into the bed next to Buffy while Cordelia scrounged up a comfy looking chair from their mother's old room. And as Dawn drifted off she realized that she was incredibly thankful that she had both of her sisters here with her now.

She didn't know if she could face this alone.

0oooo0oooo0

Fred looked up when the door opened and a group of people wandered in. Most of them she'd met before, but the young man who was with Slade, Mr. Wink, and the Giles person was an unknown. She quickly got to her feet.

"How are you? Is everyone okay?" she asked. Slade nodded.

"How is Aurora?" Slade shot back, pulling out a cigarette and putting it between his lips. His battered looking suit had obviously seen better days, and his hair was a mess, but his expression was deadly serious. He held out the pack to Giles who looked nearly as disheveled and to what looked like everyone except Slade's surprise, the other man took one.

"She's... upset," Fred replied. "But otherwise okay. She's upstairs with her sister and Cordelia."

"Cordy's here?" the new man asked. Fred nodded, and she was uncertain why his face seemed to fall when she confirmed it. Maybe they were enemies of some kind? But Cordelia seemed so nice.

"My word," Giles said, taking a lighter that Slade tossed to him and lighting his own cigarette. He puffed once. "Well, that is a surprise."

"I think we should leave them for now," Fred offered quietly. "I think they're asleep."

"Goodness knows they deserve some rest," Giles nodded in agreement. The other man seemed to want to say something, but Giles raised his hand. "Xander, perhaps it is best if you make sure that Ms. Rosenberg and Ms. MacLay make it back to their dorm in one piece. We will meet again tomorrow evening to sort this out some more."

Xander shut his mouth with a clack, nodded once, and turned around to walk out. Giles and Slade flopped down on the couch. Mr. Wink gingerly walked through the house. He placed a massive paw on Slade's shoulders and the dragon nodded.

"I know," Slade said. "First thing tomorrow I promise. Until then just be careful walking around here okay? You don't know what might mean something to the boss."

"You know," Giles said after taking another drag on his cigarette, placing in over an empty soda can and knocking the ash off. "You refer to Dawn as your leader. Why is that?"

"Because you can't beat the Dawn," Slade said with an enigmatic expression. "All you can do is chase it. But mostly because she can lead and I'm out of practice. Never really cared enough about others to be a leader. But she does, and that's why I'll follow her as long as she makes sense. Because she really does give a damn; you should have heard her when she told me about this place. She cares Rupert. She cares so much that she sacrificed herself to gain the strength to protect it. To protect you frankly. I haven't met a nobler soul in a very long while."

"Well," Slade temporized after a moment. "That, and I was really quite bored and she offered a nearly unlimited supply of things to hit. That was certainly a plus."

"And Mr. Wink?" Giles said, stating the name as if he didn't believe it was real.

"He owes her his life," Slade said. "I've only known Aurora two weeks, but I know this; saving people is what she does. She brought Fred here out of her shell, saved Mr. Wink's life, and probably saved Cordelia's life as well. She's gotten into fights with demons and Powers. I'm curious what she's going to do next."

"Powers?" Giles asked. Slade inhaled deeply, and looked troubled.

"Yes," Slade said. "The Powers. I have heard them referred to as the Powers that Be... is that correct?"

Giles was speechless.

"So what are you planning to do now?" Fred asked. Slade cocked an eyebrow at her.

"What do you mean?" Slade asked, trying to adjust to the rapid subject shift.

"I... had an idea," Fred hazarded. She pulled out a page from her sketch pad, covered in notes. Carefully she handed it to Slade and tucked her legs underneath herself. The dragon plucked the sheet up and started to read. When he was done, Slade put the sheet on the coffee table in front of him.

"That's a gutsy plan," Slade said. Fred looked away and Slade frowned a little. "I didn't say it was bad. Tell you what, you come with me and Mr. Wink tomorrow. We'll find us a place that will do. Goodness knows I have money. And Aurora has lucked into a decent chunk of cash too."

"What is this?" Giles asked, picking up the sheet. His tired eyes weren't up to reading Winnifred's immaculate and far too tiny script. However one thing stood out; the header.

"Summers, Slade, and Associates Consulting," it read in a bold script. "We help the helpless."

Giles lowered the paper, deep in thought. He'd never considered it... but Slade was right. It might not be that bad of an idea after all. He picked up the paper again and focused his eyes with a renewed vigor.

By the time he reached the end of the document he was smiling in a way that made just about everyone in the room nervous.


	8. Chapter 7 Between Life and Death

Chapter 7: Between Life and Death

Buffy awoke from her dream of being buried alive with a spasm. She struggled for a moment and then stilled as she felt slender warm arms encircle her. Her head felt clearer than it had when she was last awake. God. She shifted around to look at the person holding her. Dawn.

Her little sister had a wicked scar down her left eyebrow and down the rest of her face, and even through her own confusion, she felt her considerable rage rising. When she'd... died, Dawn's face hadn't been so narrow, her cheeks sunken. Flecks of green covered the edge of her scalp and forest green streaks wove through her long brown hair. Buffy couldn't help it, she reached out a hand and gently ran it along her sister's hairline.

Dawn's eyes snapped open when Buffy's hand touched her face, and Buffy found herself staring into her sister's eyes. Eyes that were now the green of spring grass, and as Buffy watched she swore that she could see arcs of lightning dancing behind Dawn's pupils, making them seem to glow just a little.

"Dawnie," Buffy said. She relished the sound of it in her voice, even if it was weak from sleeping.

"G' morning Buffy," Dawn replied in a hoarse voice. She had dark rings under her eyes, but she was giving a genuine smile.

Only one thing came to mind. "What happened to you?"

"I made a tough choice, just like you did," Dawn replied, knowing exactly what her sister was asking about. "I went away... trained really hard. Someone needed to guard the Hellmouth and Faith was in jail. Nobody was doing _anything._ So I left, found a teacher. I asked him to make me the equal of a Slayer or better. He did."

Buffy didn't know what she was feeling. Anger that her sister had put herself in danger warred with love and a sliver of pride as she looked at her sister. She had fought many things in her life, from thugs to Gods. That included reading false and true statements of ability. Whatever confidence Dawn had in what she'd learned was real. And since Dawn wasn't dead, Buffy was willing to give it the benefit of the doubt, at least for the moment.

"But by the time I got back here, they had already raised you," Dawn continued. She unfocused her eyes and looked away at the ceiling. "I was too late to do anything but get you out of your coffin. I'm sorry."

"They were glad to have me back..." Buffy trailed off. Dawn nodded into her pillow.

"They thought you'd gone to Quor-toth or some other hell dimension," Dawn said. "They couldn't bear the thought of you going through what Angel did with Acathla."

Buffy was silent, not really knowing what to think. A strange scent was in the air. Pancakes?

"Who's making breakfast?" Buffy asked. Dawn grinned a little.

"Why don't we go see?"

Carefully Buffy got to her feet and Dawn helped her. Buffy looked her sister up and down, dressed in the Elven mesh armor that she hadn't taken off.

"Stylish," Buffy said. "Can I get some?"

"Impress a prince of the Fae, and maybe," Dawn said. "Otherwise, not so much. Now come on, you should be starving. You were always eating."

Buffy realized that she was hungry when her stomach gurgled of its own accord. Dawn gave a light laugh and pushed her towards the door. The two of them descended the stairs and came around the corner to a sight Buffy would never have thought she would ever see.

Cordelia Chase.

In her kitchen.

Cooking what looked like a three course breakfast.

Cordelia was humming to herself as she expertly flipped a pancake in her skillet. Buffy shook her head slowly and rubbed her eyes, causing Dawn's muffled giggles to break out into a full laugh. Cordelia turned around when she heard it. She was wearing a friendly, but ever so slightly smug expression.

"Pancake?" she offered. Buffy looked at Dawn, who nodded her head. Slowly Buffy took a seat at the counter stool and nodded.

"Yes please," Buffy said. A mug full of piping hot coffee was placed next to a small mound of pancakes. Cordelia looked over at Dawn.

"Now that you're moving around, the rest is coming right up," Cordelia said. Dawn nodded at her.

"Thanks Cordy," Dawn said. She looked around. "Where are the guys?"

"Went out to look for a building for something or other. Giles went with them. I guess they want to set some kind of thing up," Cordelia offered.

"Well I know Slade wanted to open a brewery," Dawn said with a frown. "But that doesn't necessarily mean that's what he was up to."

"No, it wasn't that," Cordelia said. She paused and cracked an egg on the side of the skillet. "Or, at least not just that. You can ask them when they get back."

"Um," Buffy offered, having already demolished half the pancakes. "Not that I don't really appreciate your catering service, but what exactly are you doing here?"

"You needed help," Cordelia said. "I came. That's what I do now."

"Cordelia Chase," Buffy said after a second. "Helping people. What has the world come to?"

"I think it's a better place for it," Dawn said, walking around the island to pat Cordelia on the shoulder. She reached around and opened the refrigerator and pulled out the orange juice. Pouring herself a glass, she closed the door and moved out of Cordelia's way. The elder girl shook a finger at Dawn and let out a small squeak as she realized her eggs were going to burn. Unthinking, Cordelia reached out with her hand. There was a flash of green, and then the spatula which had been a good five feet away, hanging on its rack, was in her hand.

Buffy's fork clattered to her plate, and she turned her senses on Cordelia, looking for something, anything. Cordelia moved the pan off the burner and looked right back at her, locking their gazes, blue and... green? A single spark behind them seemed to make Cordelia's spearmint eyes glow. Cordelia's eyes had never been green and had certainly never glowed.

"It wasn't a dream," Buffy said after a moment. "I remember now. You were hurting. Something was; threatening you I guess. I felt the call."

"Well that answers that question," Dawn said with a shake of her head. "It really was her. Still looking after us even when you're dead."

"Then you know why I'm really here then," Cordelia said with the most serious expression Buffy had ever seen her wear. "I wouldn't abandon my fashion victim of a sister right when she claws her way back from death. It wouldn't be right."

The three of them didn't say anything for a while as Cordelia put more food onto Buffy's plate. Finally Cordelia smiled a little. "Eat up. You've got your whole life ahead of you."

Something dark flashed across Buffy's face, and both Cordelia and Dawn winced. Not from the words or the expression, but from something within themselves that twisted. The two of them looked at each other and then back at Buffy. She had the thousand yard stare, looking out the window behind the sink with unfocused eyes.

A rattle brought all three of them to focus on the back door. Cordelia whirled aside her tan coat and her arm came up with a sawed off shotgun. Dawn's right hand was grasping a shrunken spear that came out of nowhere whose haft was covered in intricate carvings. The door opened and Giles stared down the barrel of Cordelia's shotgun, crossing his eyes slightly. With an embarrassed blush Cordelia pointed the gun towards the ceiling, thumbing the safety back on.

"Well any doubts I had about you fighting evil just got put to rest," Buffy said, looking slightly impressed. Cordelia shrugged.

"One too many times getting jumped by slimy things in the dark," she said. Her smile became whimsical. "Angel taught me some hand to hand and Wesley taught me about guns. Handy things."

Buffy's expression became unreadable as Angel's name came up. Giles cleared his throat as he walked up to just a foot shy of the stool. "Well, I-I-I am glad to see you up and about now..."

Buffy silenced him by lunging at him and wrapping him in a tight hug. "I missed you."

"...And I you," Giles said softly after a moment. Behind him Slade walked into the door. Buffy leaned back as she released Giles, regarding the newcomer with a suspicious look. He waved at her jauntily, unlit cigarette clenched in his extremely sharp looking teeth.

"Hello Slayer," he said. "Winston Slade. Work for your sister."

Buffy turned around and gave Dawn a look. "I'm gone for; how long was I gone for?"

"Three months," Dawn said with a thoughtful look. "Twelve days, six hours."

Buffy didn't know what to say to that, so she pushed on. "And you have minions? I _never_ had minions."

"Well I didn't really _ask _for minions," Dawn temporized, looking to Slade for some kind of moral support. The man shook his head and leaned against the counter top.

"Oi, don't look at me girl," Slade replied. "I just work here. A pleasure to meet you though. I'd heard of you, but never met one of your incarnations. I left just about the time you all were getting started. Got something for you to see Aurora, but Mr. Wink is working on it right now. Maybe you can check it out tomorrow."

"Will he be okay on his own?" Dawn asked. Slade shrugged.

"I dunno," Slade said. "That Fred is running him a little ragged. I haven't ever seen her as excited as she was when I left her in a pile of new parts, raw material, and a nice big space for her to work in. I'm kind of glad real-estate appears to be so cheap here in Sunnydale. Otherwise we couldn't afford that kind of space _and_ the gadgets that girl wants to build. Even with what I brought with me."

"Fred's doing what?" Dawn asked, appearing to be lost.

"Who's he?" Buffy asked.

"No, Fred's most definitely a she," Slade said. "And she's putting together a little something for me and a present for you I think. At least that's what she was muttering when I decided to leave. It was boring me to tears. Never was big on gadgets. I'm kind of hard on them."

"I can relate," Buffy said with a sympathetic smile. She thought of all the TV remotes she'd accidentally smashed over the years.

"I'm sure you could," Slade said, giving her an appraising look. He leaned on the counter and rubbed his goatee with his other arm. "Ms. Summers, I know just how hard this is for you..."

"I doubt it," Buffy cut him off. Slade's eyes went cold.

"At least your species is still alive Summers," Slade said. "Imagine if someone brought you out of hell only to find that your entire race was extinct. Now kindly be quiet about things you know nothing about."

Buffy's mouth shut with a 'clack'. Slade smiled again.

"Now, I know that you've just gotten back," Slade said. "But I also know that you've had financial problems in the past. That lovely woman at the book store, Anyanka I believe? She was quite informative when we were helping her pawn off most of those motorcycles we came into. Those demons had quite a bit of loot on them actually, I was surprised by what they..."

"Slade," Dawn warned. Her voice was serious in a way that Buffy had never heard it before. It was promising pain. Slade stood up straighter and backed away a step.

"Right, onto the point then," Slade said hastily, holding his hands up in mock surrender. "Ms. Summers, both of you in fact, would you per chance be interested in a job?"

He flipped something out of his coat pocket at high speed, one at each of the sisters. Both Dawn and Buffy caught them easily. Buffy held the card up and examined it.

"Summers, Slade, and Associates," Buffy read aloud. "We help the helpless."

"You are the Slayer," Slade said to Buffy, he turned to Dawn and nodded. "And she is the Key. You both help people all the time. The way I look at it, some people can afford to buy help, some can't. We charge those who can. I already had a nice chat with a Bank manager in Sunnydale who would like someone to look over their branch security systems in town; reinforce them. I told the man of course, that this was dependent upon the wishes of the Senior Partners."

Cordelia suddenly broke into a coughing fit. Slade turned to her and nodded. "I know, am I not a genius? I thought it was hysterically funny myself."

"More like angling to get yourself killed," Cordelia said. Slade shrugged.

"After living for something like a million years in Hell, I'm not as worried as I would have been before," Slade said. He turned back to the Summers girls, and smiled.

"This was their down payment," Slade said, holding out a check. Dawn blinked at the number of zeros on the check. Buffy made a kind of whimpering noise. The two of them looked at each other.

"That's the down payment?" Dawn asked. Slade nodded.

"Twenty percent," Slade said. "Work to be done within the month. Once we have their testimonial on just how good we are, then others will follow. Corporates, other banks, people who need help with all kinds of security issues."

"So Senior Partners," Slade said amiably. "Who wants to help me break into a bank?"

0oooo0oooo0

Buffy sat next to Dawn on the couch, the two sisters looking over the paperwork Slade had given them. It was an incredible amount of extremely boring legal-ese, but the general thrust was that Summers, Slade and Associates LLC was a consulting firm specializing in security and private investigations. Cordelia was taking a break from her self assigned kitchen duties, leaning against a wall and flipping through the papers most related to the 'private investigation' part of the business. Buffy figured she'd know a lot about it by now. The sisters' examination of the documents came to a halt when Buffy finally finished the last one and looked over at Dawn.

"I can't believe this," Buffy said. "How long have they had to put this together?"

"I don't honestly know," Dawn replied. "This morning was the first I'd heard of it. You did pretty much sleep for three days though. They could have been really busy with that."

"Why can't Angel score jobs like this?" Cordelia moaned. Giles, who was walking down from the upstairs, paused in his descent.

"I believe the reason is that Mr. Slade has unique powers when it comes to negotiation," Giles said. "The Dragons were renown for their wit and their incredible talents in the arts of language and psychology. Backed by the supernatural force of their personalities, their social magic was one of the most potent tools that they had to address any situation. Oh, and of course we must recall that Angel has the personable nature of a porcupine that had been kicked one too many times."

"Hm," Dawn said rubbing her chin. "That's a surprisingly good analogy."

Cordelia and Buffy both glared at her.

"Dawn, you know he has good reasons..."

"Just because I'm your sister now doesn't mean I have to..."

Cordelia and Buffy stopped. The expressions on both their faces defied mortal description. Dawn let loose a throaty laugh and threw her head back on the cushions. Giles was studiously polishing his glasses at a frantic pace and attempting to ignore the staring contest that had begun between Cordelia and his Slayer.

"Come on girls," Dawn said in a knowing voice. "I mean there's enough of him to go around, hunk that he is, isn't there? I'm sure you could work out a timeshare or something."

Cordelia let out a squeaking noise and Buffy looked at her little sister with an open jaw. Both of them were coloring in very interesting ways. Dawn shook her head and crossed her arms.

"I predate sex," Dawn said wryly. She didn't look threatened by either of them. "You think that this is new to me? I think you two are hysterical."

"Well see how hysterical you are when I'm done with you," Buffy said in a low and threatening voice. "Besides, you seemed really keen on this thing when you were talking to Slade. Are you dropping out of school?"

"Yes," Dawn said flatly. Buffy looked like she was winding up to let loose an incredible tirade when Dawn looked straight at her. "Buffy how many languages do you speak?"

"Um?" Buffy deflated slightly. When she answered, her voice was sadly hopeful. "English and bad English?"

"Seventy eight," Dawn replied. "Twenty four are human and thirty seven I can't even speak because I don't have the vocal apparatus. I know more history than probably any human alive; if I'm even human in any sense anymore. Look, I think this might be the best break you've had in a long time."

"It isn't that I'm not interested or grateful for the opportunity," Buffy said. "I mean, way better than multiple shifts at the Double Meat Palace to make the mortgage..."

"You don't need to worry about that at least," Dawn said quietly. Buffy raised an eyebrow and Dawn made a strange shrugging motion. "I actually managed to get a hold of your father. I made him cough up the money that he owed us."

"He's your dad too," Buffy said with a small frown. Dawn laughed bitterly.

"Yeah," Dawn spat. "Right. He was so busy with his floozy that he didn't even want to tell her I was there. He said I was a 'business partner'. So if that's what Hank wants, that's how I'll treat him. Turns out dad was pretty successful; I got about five hundred grand out of him."

"Five..." Buffy began. Dawn nodded.

"Yup," she said. She rolled to her feet and put the folder carefully down on the coffee table. She cracked her neck and straightened up, stretching like a cat. "I had Giles take care of the bank stuff yesterday; all we owe on the house now is taxes. We have about four hundred left. Even if you don't want to work with Slade, I think we can afford a little shopping trip to Santa Barbara or something. Get out for a little while?"

"How did you do that?" Buffy asked. She folded her arms underneath her chest and gave Dawn a very level stare. Dawn furrowed her forehead.

"Do you really want to know?" Dawn countered. Buffy was struck by the cold look in her sister's eyes. A look that hadn't ever been there before she'd gone away. Now, looking into it, she wondered if that merciless stare was the same thing her mother had seen the night Buffy had gone to seal Acathla.

"Yes," Buffy said, matching the stare. Dawn smiled like a winter demon, all teeth and icy hate.

"I told him that I would make sure the truth of his life ended up on the desk of the L.A. Times. I was going to ruin him so thoroughly that he'd never recover. Maybe even get him thrown in jail. He caved in less than a minute. Fucking coward."

"Dawn, language!" Buffy snapped automatically. Dawn blinked slowly and shook her head as if clearing out her senses.

"Sorry," she said in the most unapologetic tone Buffy had heard in a long time. "So, do you think that you're going to go work with us at the company?"

"You say that like you're already going to," Buffy said. Dawn shrugged.

"Well, I guess it is what I do," Dawn replied. "I spent a year of my life getting ready for it."

"What do you mean a year?" Buffy asked quietly. Dawn blinked, and she noticed Cordelia staring at her just as intently as Buffy. Somehow the former Queen of Sunnydale High had developed an unnerving knack for remaining unnoticed if she didn't want to be.

"Well..." Dawn temporized. She suddenly felt like she was ten again. Biting back a curse she'd learned from Nuada, Dawn began to speak. "It goes something like this..."

Dawn watched the others. She'd told this story to Angel before, she had it organized in her head, knew her truths and lies very well at this point. So instead, she watched her two sisters by blood for their reaction. Cordelia was surprisingly calm, simply nodding every so often at what Dawn said. She winced every once in a while, but other than that she gave no outward signs of any kind of discomfort.

Buffy on the other hand, was a study in restrained agony. As Dawn described the way her little family had fallen apart after her death in the most unflattering terms, Buffy's fingers dug into the armrests of the couch deeper and deeper. As she described how brutal her training was, showing a few of the scars to Buffy her sister looked like she might explode. Only Dawn's disciplined calm was restraining her, keeping the boiling emotions in check.

Giles looked older and sadder than Dawn had ever seen him look before. Even when Buffy had died he hadn't looked this defeated. Dawn finished her recounting and leaned back in her seat.

"So there you go," Dawn said. She cocked her head to the side like an inquisitive bird and looked at Giles with curiosity. "What's wrong?"

"I," Giles began and paused to gather his thoughts. He looked at the cloth he used to polish his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I feel as though I failed. If you felt that _this_ was what you had to do then I..."

"What did I tell you when you apologized for not thanking me the first time?" Dawn asked. Her voice was quiet and firm. Giles looked straight into her eyes.

"That I'd never have to," Giles said, looking slightly confused. Dawn pulled out the spear and looked at it, twirling the baton-length weapon in her hands.

"Do you know why?" Dawn prompted. Giles shook his head in a hesitant gesture. Dawn switched from looking at Giles to Buffy. "Because I wasn't just doing this for you Giles. I was doing it and everything that went with it because I had to. It's for _me_ more than you Giles. I'm sorry if you think that way, but I'll be honest. I don't even want to think about the girl I could have been if I hadn't remembered who I was on that tower when; well anyway. I am who I am now guys. Can we accept it and move on?"

There was knock at the door. Buffy gave her a tired glare and got off the couch.

"This conversation isn't over," Buffy stated. Dawn just shrugged.

"As far as I'm concerned it is," Dawn began. She abruptly cut off. "Oh."

"Oh what?" Cordelia asked archly. Dawn pointed at the door that Buffy had just opened. Spike stood behind the door, looking like he'd been completely pole-axed. "Oh. That."

The two of them just looked at one another for a very, very long time. They were interrupted when Cordelia gave an awful cry. Somehow she'd drawn her weapon and crossed the distance necessary in seconds. Glowing wings of green light sprang from her back, curling around Spike like tentacles of an angry Kraken and lifting him into the air. She was barely a foot from him when she leveled her sawed off at the uncommonly helpless Spike's head. Cordelia's eyes lightened, taking on the slightly glowing cast that Dawn's normally had, and her expression was one that everyone present recognized; the blank eyed calm of calculated murder. She was going to kill him, right then and there. Dawn's eyes widened and almost without thinking she just reached out and _pushed_. All three were hurled back and Dawn jumped between them.

Power flared up through her and her hair went the color of the sun tinged with mint. Eyes glowing with white power and her arms spread wide, Dawn looked supremely pissed. When she spoke her voice was harmony.

"Nobody shoots anybody right now," she intoned. She turned her gaze to Cordelia. "He can't hurt people now. He has a brain taser when he hurts a human. Buffy, Cordelia didn't know. Don't get pissed; from what I gather when last they saw him he tortured Angel for a day or so. Spike, if you say something stupid right now, so help me God, I'm not going to save your life again."

"How did the cheerleader learn to do that?" Spike asked. He sounded like he was genuinely spooked. Dawn turned her burning gaze on him and cocked her head to the side.

"Not for you to know," Dawn replied. She smiled. "Unless you want to end up like the bikers that is. It can be arranged."

"So it was you Nibblet," Spike said as understanding lit up his face.

"What?" Buffy asked, pushing herself up. She had a wary eye on Cordelia, whose wings were snapping behind her like an anemone's arms in a riptide current.

"There's rumor going 'round that a new Greater Demon is in Sunnydale," Spike said, eying Dawn where she stood. He hadn't even bothered to get off his back. "A being who uses hellfire, and can decapitate a pure-blood from a hundred yards without moving. Who can turn into a dragon, and commands the Fae."

"That's... surprisingly accurate," Dawn said. "I thought I killed all those demons."

"All those demons?" Buffy asked. The pitch of her voice was starting to do interesting things. Spike shook his head.

"Not just any demons," Spike said. "The Hellions. A demon biker gang that those pissant Hell's Angels humans think they're imitating. They were like locusts, creatures that destroyed entire towns. Just went in and burned 'em. Me and Dru never tangled with 'em. Too much trouble they were. And she killed them to a man; made it look _easy_ according to the seers and snitches."

"You killed an entire demon biker gang?" Buffy was nearly shrieking by this point. Dawn shrugged helplessly.

"Well, er," she said. It was truly disconcerting to hear her sound chastised in a dozen harmonic voices. "Slade and Mr. Wink did some too."

"At best half," Giles spoke up. His voice was flat. "The majority fell to your sister. Mr. Slade and Mr. Wink simply covered you and dealt with the remnants. Your spear is quite useful for killing demons."

"It's magic," Dawn shrugged. "Maybe like Olaf's hammer?"

"Buffy," Spike said carefully. "Your little sister is currently getting better press than Kakistos did when he came here. They're either going to gun for her once they find out who she is or go right into hiding."

Buffy looked tired. "Great, here it is all over again."

"Not quite," Giles said. Buffy looked up at the unusually firm tone in Giles' voice. "I was at the site of the primary battle. Buffy, I will be perfectly frank with you. I have seen and judged many battles in my life. In my utmost professional opinion, your sister is at least as capable as you were in your senior year of high school. Probably quite a bit more."

Dawn said nothing, but with her hair and eyes lighting the room almost more than direct sunlight, Buffy relented.

"We'll talk later," Buffy said, sitting up.

"You're... alive," Spike said. Buffy looked at him with a wry expression.

"Not really my idea though," Buffy replied. Her voice was bitter. Spike seemed leery of Buffy now, as if something wasn't quite right. He sniffed the air subtly, but Dawn noticed. She let her power fade again and her mouth quirked into a frown. Spike carefully adjusted his leather jacket and got to his feet.

"Necromancy is ugly stuff," Spike said, smiling with his mouth if not his eyes. "You might have brought back all kinds of wonderful creatures. Wonder if anything hitched a ride."

Buffy said nothing, wrapping her arms around herself. She refused to meet anyone's gaze. Cordelia caught Dawn's gaze, and in a display of subtlety that Dawn envied, she gestured towards the kitchen. The shivers from earlier this morning, coupled with Spike's words, made her feel slightly nervous.

"How would we know?" Cordelia asked carefully. She hadn't lowered that sawed off very much, Dawn noticed, even if she had retracted her wings. The gun could still take Spike's head off if she wanted it to.

"Dunno," Spike said, eying Cordelia with something almost like respect.

"Th-th-there are detection spells for such entities," Giles said. "I can perform many of them. Perhaps we can be certain."

"I think that's a good idea," Cordelia spoke up firmly. "I found out I had some kind of a hitch hiker and I hadn't even died."

Dawn gave a supporting nod. "All right Giles, let's get cracking."

0oooo0oooo0

Fred walked into the Summers home flanked by Xander and Anya. The three of them saw an exhausted looking Giles, a wary looking Spike, and a concerned Cordelia and Dawn standing in a circle around a very impatient Buffy.

"...So that's it?" Spike asked. "No certainty?"

"Well, I cannot be sure," Giles hedged. He folded his hands on his jeans and sighed, rubbing his eyes with the palm of his hands. "There's just too much... well, mystical static if you wish to put it the most basic terms possible. I cannot determine whether or not there is a possessing entity of some kind. If it is, it is too subtle for a person of my level to isolate."

"Well if you need more powerful mojo," Xander inserted from the doorway. "You could always ask Wills."

Dawn nearly growled, but she didn't seem to be disagreeing exactly. Spike looked mildly amused by all this.

"I don't know if you lot noticed, but our Nibblet is a bit put out by your red headed Mary Poppins at the moment. Have any other brilliant suggestions?"

Dawn's hand shot out and she grabbed Spike's throat causing him to squeak. He scrabbled against her arm for a moment, and then it was as if a light went off in his head. His leg went around to catch her in the head, and it would have if she hadn't pushed back with the same force she'd used earlier this evening. Spike hovered in the air, unable to gain purchase on anything solid.

"So now you know," Dawn whispered, looking him in the eye. "I'm not human enough for your chip to work. We going to have any problems now Spike?"

Spike gingerly rubbed his throat and glared at her. But it was a glare that hid a very real terror within him. "No."

"Good," Dawn said. The force holding him in the air relaxed, and the blonde vampire landed in a three point stance with a catlike grace. Dawn turned away, appearing to ignore him. "Now, what the hell. If Willow can fix what she screwed up, that's fine. I'm a big enough girl to let her. That doesn't mean I have to like it. Now, let me know when she gets here."

And with that Dawn left the muddled and thunderstruck Scoobies and walked up to her room, shutting the door quietly behind her.

0oooo0oooo0

Willow Rosenberg walked as resolutely as she could manage up the front of Revello Drive. Which was to say in a meek posture with her head downcast and her hands fidgeting in front of her. Only Tara's arm around hers was giving her the strength to keep stepping forward. Because of that she didn't see the source of the unknown voice until it called out to her.

"So," someone mumbled. "You're the Necromancer?"

Willow's head snapped up. She saw a man with brown hair and a goatee that looked almost like Gary Oldman's younger twin brother leaning against one of the Summers' porch columns, with a cigarette in his mouth, looking at her speculatively. He was dressed in an impeccable white suit with a black shirt on underneath it. He looked like he belonged in a Michael Jackson video, frankly.

"You gave the Little Mistress a bit of a roller coaster rid you know?" the man continued. He took the cigarette out of his mouth and tapped the ash into the shrub beneath him.

"Who are you?" Willow whispered.

"Winston Slade," the man replied around his cigarette, looking almost bored. "I guess I'm working for Aurora in a sense right now. At least, I ain't getting in her way. And I'm doing what I'm told. So I guess, yeah, I work for Aurora. She's a scary little bitch when she puts her mind to it. And I knew Glory's sisters."

"W-w-w-what are you?" Tara asked. Slade didn't seem affected by her stutter, but he did smile at the question. He had too many teeth, Willow realized, to be a human.

"Something very old," Slade said to the two women below him. "And very tired at the moment. But that isn't important. What is important is that the Little Mistress be up and about for you. Oi, Wink. Wink there! Go get the boss. Aurora's 'guests' are here!"

There was a shuffling inside the house, and a creak, as if a great weight were suddenly moving around just past the front door. There was a gray blur behind the glass, but Willow couldn't make out distinct features. Then it was gone.

"Quite a piece of work you did," Slade continued, waving them up to join him. Tara looked at his cigarette with thinly veiled disgust, but Slade either ignored it or didn't give a damn. "But dark. Very dark. Wouldn't be surprised if magic like that had... repercussions that none of us thought of."

"You... you were the one that went with Giles and Dawn to go fight the demons the other night," Willow said. Slade nodded.

"Me and Mr. Wink, yeah," Slade said. He finished his cigarette in a single drag and put it out on his hand. It didn't seem to hurt him at all. "Well come on. The others are already here. And I don't think Aurora's in a mood to repeat herself."

"Why do you call her Aurora?" Tara asked as Slade opened the door. Slade stopped, and turned to look at the witches.

"Because that's what she is," Slade said. Then he walked inside. The two witches followed closely behind him. The scene that greeted them was an incredibly crowded room. Buffy and Spike appeared to be deep in conversation by the entrance kitchen, conversing in low tones. Willow felt her heart unclinch a little as she saw Buffy talking and moving around normally. Giles, Cordelia, and a girl Willow didn't know were busy talking over a pile of folders and documents laid out on the table. Anya and Xander appeared to be adding things here and there to the conversation. Slade walked over to them and joined in as well. A soft voice was cleared behind them and Willow and Tara jumped a foot in the air.

They whirled around to come face to face with a scarred Dawn and the nine foot tall troll behind her that was giving them a very unnerving stare. Dawn had a strange expression on her face, as if she couldn't decide what to do.

"Dawnie I," Willow began, but trailed off. What could she say?

"I honestly don't know what to do," Dawn said. Her luminescent green eyes narrowed into slits and she stepped forward. Willow involuntarily flinched a little, but Dawn's powerful backhanded strike made Willow stumble back, clutching her cheek in shock.

Conversations in the room stopped dead as Willow straightened up. Dawn strode forward, her arm drawing back again and static crackled around the room. Buffy got to her feet, but Spike caught her arm, shaking his head. Dawn reached out again, and Willow stiffened, but offered no other resistance. However instead of striking her, Dawn wrapped her up in a fierce hug. No one except Buffy or Spike could hear what Dawn whispered into Willow's ear, but it sent chills down the redhead's spine.

"The guardian in me is _so_ angry with you," Dawn hissed into her ear. "But the selfish little sister in me can't help but thank you. Thank you for giving my sister back to me Willow. But if you ever do something like this again... You'll find out why I was declared a Champion by the Prince of the Sidhe."

Dawn released her and stepped back. Willow's lower lip trembled slightly as her cheek began to turn a deep red. Her voice was soft, but surprisingly solid. "Are we okay now?"

"No," Dawn said with a fierce stare, but she allowed her features to mellow and shot Willow the ghost of a smile. "But we're getting there."

Tara moved up and wrapped Willow in a strong hug as Dawn turned away. The two women's eyes met for a second and Dawn gave her an icy glare. Then Dawn walked into the center of the packed living room. She looked around at the gathered friends and allies. She nodded once and turned to Buffy.

"We've got a problem," Dawn said. She looked over at Tara and Willow. "A problem that we think only you guys can help us with."

"W-w-w-what is it?" Tara managed, looking pained. Dawn pursed her lips.

"When Buffy was... brought back, we think something might have crossed over with her," Dawn said after a moment. "Something nasty."

"I have run a few minor spells of my own," Giles said. "But it was difficult for me to isolate. There was a great deal of; well mystical static I suppose."

"Guess being brought back from the dead has complications huh?" Buffy asked in an odd voice. Spike and Dawn both gave her a very appraising look.

"Indeed," Giles finished. He leaned back in his chair and looked towards Willow. "I lack the power for more intense magic; but you do not."

"I don't know," Willow said, looking over at Dawn. However, Dawn was wearing a very neutral expression.

"Something's there," Cordelia spoke up. The room turned towards her and everyone but Dawn and Buffy seemed surprised by the statement. "I can feel it."

"Please," Dawn asked, never taking her eyes of Willow.

The redheaded witch sighed and pulled her Hello Kitty backpack off and began fishing through it. She pulled out a leather bound book and began flipping through it. She placed it on a table by the door, and looked over at Buffy.

"You guys might want to step back," Willow cautioned. "We don't want this to go any crazier than it has to."

Everyone moved into a loose circle around Buffy and the blonde slayer stood in the center of her living room with her eyes closed and fists clenched at her sides. Willow began to read in her book, voice laced with undeniable power. A ball of bluish light gathered in Willow's palm, growing in intensity until Willow reached the end of the chant. Then the ball of light flew forward, striking Buffy in the sternum. She bucked, her muscles spasming. There was an awful sound like the tearing of metal, then the spirit was there, heralded by a wave of intense concussive force. All of those standing around Buffy were knocked onto their backs, except for Dawn who shimmered slightly. The wave passed straight through her without any other noticeable effect.

There was a hiss as the creature looked around. It's true form defied easy description, but it had fanged maws, tentacles, and a host of other unidentifiable organs. It turned and hissed at Dawn who narrowed her eyes.

"Baelphaegor," she muttered. "What are you doing here?"

"Vishtaghtn," the spirit responded. The tentacles moved towards her at an incredible speed. They seemed to bounce off an invisible barrier as Dawn's eyes began to glow with white light.

"Fine, be that way," Dawn said. "Tell Sammael and the rest that we say hello."

She whirled the spear around and stabbed Baelphaegor through the chest. The black blood that leaked from the wound smoked, evaporating even before it hit the floor. It emitted a terrible screech when Buffy buried a wicked knife deep in its body, while Slade and Spike simply punched it so hard that their hands went up to the elbow into the demon's innards.

There was a horrible screech and Baelphaegor dissolved into steam. The shocked Scoobies looked at each other and as one turned to Dawn.

"Um," Cordelia asked hesitantly. "How did you know who he was?"

"Ex boyfriend," Dawn said in a perfectly flat voice. It was an admirable deadpan, but she wasn't able to hold her poker face when she saw Buffy's horrified expression. Dawn finally cracked and threw her head back in laughter. She planted her spear and leaned on it a little. "He told me. That was what all that gurgling was at the beginning there. Been around for as long as I have, you pick up a few things. You guys should have seen your faces... God."

Dawn didn't stop laughing for a very long time.

0oooo0oooo0

"So this is it," a white haired man said in a thick Texas twang, slinging an immaculately clean lever action Winchester rifle over his shoulder. A young man, despite the color of his hair, he was dressed in black leather, a short sword of some kind strapped to his side just barely visible past his duster. "Don't look like much."

"No it doesn't," agreed a smirking woman. Her short brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and she was wearing a much more subdued ensemble than her associate. Hardly any leather to be seen. She had a strange looking crossbow braced over her shoulder in much the same fashion as the rifle of her white haired companion. "However the Society was quite clear on this being the location of the artifact. The Knights of Byzantium were consistent on this point."

"Hmph," the white haired man grumbled. "Should have just shot them knights Sarah. Woulda done us all a world of good."

"But then we wouldn't know where it was, now would we?" Sarah countered. The two of them looked down on the lights of Sunnydale with calculating eyes.

"This is gonna be a tough one ain't it?" the white haired man asked. The other nodded.

"One of the toughest Ezekiel," she said. She slung the crossbow over her back and turned around to walk back towards the battered looking Humvee that was parked next to the highway. A dozen other small vehicles all with one or two armed and extremely dangerous looking men in them. The white haired man turned away, smiling an incredibly wide smile.

"Alright boys, saddle up," Ezekiel called. "We got us a Key to corral."


	9. Chapter 8 Summers, Slade, and Associates

Disclaimer: Hellboy is the property of Dark Horse Comics and Mike Mignola. Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel are both the property of Mutant Enemy and their affiliates. I own neither, and am writing this neither for commercial distribution nor profit. If they so require I will take this down whenever they ask. Original Characters are my property and may be used only with permission. Seriously folks, all you have to do is ask. I'm writing Fanfiction for crying out loud.

8. Summers, Slade, and Associates

"This is a pretty awesome place," Dawn said appreciatively. The bar front was almost complete. Slade smiled and tucked his arms behind himself with a proud expression. The stood in the entrance of the newly cleaned and refurbished "Dragon's Wing". It had begun life as a grubby bar called the 'Alibi Room'; Willy the Snitch's old place. How Slade had got him to sell was a mystery. It was almost unrecognizable now. The space had been completely redone and extended in the back. Now there was a medium sized dance floor and the entire interior decor was reminiscent of a high end L.A. Establishment than a grubby demon bar.

Apparently Slade considered it his god given mission to bring some class to Sunnydale's demon community. So far a great many people had been interested in the place and not all of them were demons. It once again fascinated Dawn just how high a percentage of Sunnydale's population knew about the supernatural and just refused to talk about it.

"I like it," Slade said. He was leaning on the black polished concrete that was the bar's surfacing. Behind him the wine glasses and tumblers hung from their various racks, glittering in the diffuse blue lighting of the place. "A nice adjunct business, wouldn't you say?"

"It certainly could be that," Xander spoke up, coming around the corner and dusting his hands off slightly. He shared a grin with the dragon. "We should be ready for you to open this place sometime tomorrow. Everything's all set here. There's plenty of room for Fred to set up your brewery in the basement next door that you guys bought up. But I gotta ask, how did you get this done so fast? I mean, usually these permits take months to get through, and you guys were already working in a few days..."

"One advantage of age and experience Alexander," Slade said with a wry gaze. "Is that I have learned how best to expedite such things. Which is namely by being something they cannot afford to ignore. I discovered through speaking with the previous proprietor, a fellow named Willy I believe, that there were channels for... beings of an otherworldly nature here in Sunnydale. I simply used them. And money- money always helps."

"So between this," Dawn said. "The stake we got in the Magic Box from helping them repair the damages that Glory inflicted on it, and the consulting agency you've started, that's three businesses that are gonna be giving us money?"

"That was the idea," Slade said with a smile. "I like money. Even in Quor-toth it was something that made life far more tolerable. Human moralists may claim that money does not bring happiness, but I would say that if it does not, it must surely make misery much more comfortable."

"No disagreement from me on that one," Xander said. He grinned. "With all the money you threw at us, the company's talking about promoting me."

"They should," Dawn said, looking at him. At times like these he felt those ancient green eyes were out of place in Dawn's youthful face. "You're not nearly as stupid as you try to convince people that you are. They're just starting to figure that out for themselves."

"Either way," Slade said. "I have business to attend to. Are your men finished for the night Alexander?"

"Yeah," Xander said. "I'm the last one here. How about I walk the Dawn-patrol here home? And you can get back to whatever... dragony business that you do."

"I doubt she needs the protection," Slade observed. Xander gave him a scandalized look.

"Please," he shot back. "Who said that I was going to protect _her_?"

Slade laughed. Dawn shook her head, but she was smiling. "Alright. Let's go Mr. White Knight. Lots of damsels in distress for you to save."

The two of them walked down the mostly empty street in a companionable silence for a few blocks. Finally Xander turned to Dawn, dusting his hands on his jeans.

"So, are you going to be taking over some of the patrolling for the Buffster?" he asked lightly. Dawn's expression darkened.

"Not if Buffy has anything to say about it," Dawn muttered. "I forgot just how pushy a bitch she was when she was alive. I... I mean I'm _not_ sorry that she's back, but..."

"You wish that she'd see you're just as capable as her at helping protect the world from pointy fanged fiends?" Xander ventured. Dawn let out a small laugh and nodded.

"I guess that works," Dawn said. She shut her eyes. "It's just like once Baelphaegor was gone she closed herself off again. She won't talk about what happened to her at all, and she keeps trying to order me around all the time. And I love her... I love her so much. But I won't put up with that if I think she's wrong. And I know it this time."

"You aren't talking about patrolling here are you?" Xander asked again. Dawn gave a terse nod. Xander nodded sagely. "So this is also about the whole consulting business thing that Slade and Fred are setting up?"

"Yeah," Dawn said, looking away. "I... Xander I'm not just a little girl. I'm an angel as old as time. And a girl. At once. It's confusing."

"I can't really say I understand what you're going through," Xander said after a moment. "But I do know this, Buffy and I have disagreed before. On a lot of things. One thing I've learned in all that is that she has to figure things out for herself sometimes. That can cause a lot of heartache sometimes, but it's the truth. She'll see it eventually."

"I hope so," Dawn muttered. "Because if she doesn't I'm going to kick her butt so hard she'll end up in Cleavland."

"You know," Xander said conversationally. "It puts a whole knew dimension on those kinds of sayings when you can actually deliver on them."

Dawn snerked slightly, and Xander put a hand on her arm. "Come on. Why don't we go get some ice cream and then hit the cemeteries. I'm sure some idiot will try to claw his way out tonight. Great for the old stress relief for someone like you, eh?"

"Not you?" Dawn asked, catching the omission. Xander looked slightly bashful.

"Look I know my limits," Xander said. He appeared thoughtful. "I just help out, you know. I'm not gonna be able to go toe to toe with a vamp and walk away."

"Maybe we should do something about that," Dawn said thoughtfully. Xander raised an eyebrow.

"What does that mean, exactly?"

"It means," Dawn said turning her head with a sigh of mock exasperation. "That you should shut up, buy me ice cream, and then go get ourselves dusty."

"Yes ma'am," Xander said, snapping a perfect salute. Dawn smirked as they pulled to a stop in front of a Baskin Robins.

"Interesting," Dawn said as they walked into the ice cream parlor. Xander blinked.

"What did I miss this time?"

0oooo0oooo0

Buffy paced like a caged tiger on her front porch. Spike, who had been lazily reclining against one of the support columns gave her a slightly nasty smile.

"What's got your knickers in a twist?" Spike asked, knowing the answer already and loving every second of Buffy's irritation.

"Dawn isn't back yet," Buffy said automatically. Spike laughed out loud.

"Oh, harmless little bit," Spike's tone was acid. "So helpless that she near took out a whole demon biker gang with herself, one troll, and a bloke who buffs his nails and struts around in Armani. Yes, she's certainly in mortal trouble, right now. There are _vampires_ here you know. Very dangerous lot."

"Shut up Spike," Buffy said on autopilot. The timid Fred girl who had arrived just before sunset in the company of Anya poked her head outside and watched Buffy pivot on one foot. Her eyes wide behind her reading glasses, she pushed the frames up on her nose.

"One hundred and seventy six," Fred commented. Buffy stopped and gave her an incredulous stare. Fred blinked and leaned back a little. "One hundred and seventy six laps. Does it help the nervousness? I know my rock used to be good for that... but I lost my rock you know."

Spike did a poor job of choking back laughter as Buffy turned around and walked into the house in a huff, pushing past Fred. Fred looked after her for a moment, before going out onto the porch herself and looking out at the night sky with a small smile on her face. She wrapped her arms gently around herself, rocking back on her heels.

"It's hard to believe," she said. "But I missed the lights. I missed not being able to see the stars at night. It felt... safer I guess."

"Just a lie, there isn't anything 'safe' about it," Spike gave her a measuring glance. "You do that daft act on purpose don't you?"

Fred said nothing, but turned slightly to look at him out of the corner of her eye.

"Spent two hundred years with a bat who was as daft as they come," he said with a small longing in his voice, turning to look at the orange tinted sky. "I know an honest nut job when I meet one."

"It got her to stop pacing didn't it?" Fred asked, as her tiny smile grew larger. Spike laughed and shook his head.

"I think I could get to like you, for a brainy one," Spike said with a maliciously gleeful stare. Fred stepped back and gave him a cold glance before doing something with her sleeve. A bolt buried itself into the column next to Spike. He leaped aside with a string of curses as Fred smiled. She pulled the long sleeve of the jacket she was wearing down and Spike saw some kind of apparatus that must have been a kind of crossbow.

"That's okay," Fred said. "I think I could get to like you for a bloodsucking demon. But not that much."

Spike genuinely laughed at that, his eyes dancing with merriment. "You _are_ a feisty one too. The nibblet picks good people."

The sound of slow clapping echoed across the street, and both of them looked up to see a dusty Dawn and Xander trudging up the steps. They looked tired but satisfied. Dawn's slow clapping stopped as she turned to look at Spike. She was almost as tall as him now, he realized with a start.

"Good job on that one Fred," Dawn said with a tired grin. "But watch out. If that chip ever comes out, I think he'll put you towards the top of his 'to kill' list. Probably after me though, so no worries."

"Aw nibblet," Spike whinged. "I wouldn't kill you. I'd just keep you around like a bar snack for a few nights. Then I'd kill you."

"Always the charmer, huh?" Xander said. "Or is that usually the way you pick up girls Captain Peroxide?"

Spike was interrupted by a blonde haired whirlwind coming through the door at high speed. Xander, Spike, and Fred all moved away from Buffy as quickly as they could. Dawn just stood there, turning away from Spike and facing her sister with a level gaze.

"Where the heck were you?" Buffy asked. Dawn shrugged.

"Doing my job," Dawn said. She looked over her sister's head towards Xander. "What was our count for the night?"

"Ten," Xander said quietly. Dawn nodded, turning back to Buffy.

"So there you have it," Dawn stated. "Ten vamps down. And one demon that was in the wrong neighborhood at the wrong time."

"What were you thinking?" Buffy asked. "You were on patrol?"

"I was thinking that my sister deserved a vacation," Dawn said. "But that the vamps never take time off unless it's Halloween. So I did what I was trained to do."

"Alright miss," Buffy said with steel in her voice. "You're going to listen to this right now..."

"No," Dawn cut her off. "You're going to listen to me. I've been going on patrol every night since the one after you got back. You were just too busy with I don't know what to notice."

She gave Spike a piercing look, and the vampire actually flinched just a little.

"So," Dawn continued. "I keep the peace. And put the fear of God back into the local population. They probably know that I killed Glory by now. I think one of them overheard our conversation while Xander and I were at New Hope Fields."

"You can't just," Buffy began, but something behind Dawn's eyes snapped. Her pupils began to cast a faint green light.

"Oh yes I can," Dawn said in a dark voice. In a flash she drew her spear and hurled it point down into the turf. "I challenge you Slayer. Right here, right now."

Buffy looked at a loss for words, and Dawn crossed her arms under her chest. "You won't be able to convince me not to go out there. You're going to have to make me. This is how the Fae settle arguments that can't be talked out. So if you win this, I swear that I won't go on patrol in or around Sunnydale. Also, I'll go back to school like a good little girl instead of joining Slade's company."

"What's to stop you from just going out anyway?" Buffy asked with an arched eyebrow.

"My oath, bound by a Fae," Dawn replied. "But if I win, then things get interesting. I stay on the patrols and you let me do what I want to with my life. So you can bitch, but I'm going to go work with Slade."

"Fine," Buffy said with a nod. "If this is what it will take then we'll do it. I won't go easy on you though, not with your future at stake."

"Wouldn't dream of it being any other way sis," Dawn said. "No weapons?"

"No weapons," Buffy nodded. "And no ranged super telekenesis-whatsits."

"Fine," Dawn smirked. "Hand to hand it is. Fred, can you draw up a circle for us? Like the one Slade showed you before. Well do this in the back yard."

In the end they drew a hell of a crowd. Cordelia had been chosen as her second, and hadn't minded in the slightest. Dawn figured she'd love to see Buffy taken down a peg. Apparently Dawn wasn't the only one who'd received the bitch treatment. The rest of the Scoobies were in a loose circle around the arena that Fred was creating. Willow and Xander seemed pretty intent on talking Buffy down, but it didn't seem to be working. The rest of the Scoobies: Tara, Spike, Giles, and Anya seemed pretty neutral about the whole thing. Dawn hoped that was a good sign. Someone must have put in a call because Slade and Mr. Wink showed up as Fred was finishing the circle. Winston wasted no time walking straight up to her with a frown on his face.

"What the hell are you thinking Aurora?" he all but yelled at her. She gave him a mild look. Cordelia gave him a scathing glare.

"Rude much?" Cordelia asked pointedly. Slade seemed to ignore her completely, his whole attention on Dawn.

"Oh chill out," Dawn said when she turned to meet his eyes. She looked over at Mr. Wink. "I've been training for this for a year. If I can't do this now, then maybe she's right. Maybe I wasted all of that time. But I don't think she's going to win."

Mr. Wink gave a firm nod, looking completely unconcerned. Dawn watched Buffy in a heated conversation with Willow and Xander on the opposite side of the circle. She bent all the way forward at her hips to wrap her arms around her legs in a stretch.

"She won't go all out at first," Dawn said. "She won't think that she needs to. But I'm going to go all out from the first second. Surprise is on my side. I'll need to strike to win in the first fifty seconds or it'll get a lot harder."

Slade looked somewhat incredulous, but Mr. Wink laid a heavy hand on his shoulder. Slade looked up at the troll in irritation.

"I know I shouldn't worry, but if she has to give up the company for this I'll have to order new stationary and everything! It'll be a logistics nightmare."

"Glad to see you concerned for my welfare," Dawn said, stepping forward into the perfect chalk circle demarcated by Fred. "You ready Buffy?"

"Yup," Buffy said. She stepped into the ring with the easy predatory grace that all the Slayers possessed. She almost looked eager. "One order of humbled sister coming right up."

Dawn smirked as Mr. Wink began the low grumbling chant that would seal their agreement. There was spark of blue light that ran around the circle. Buffy had no idea just how right she was going to be. Dawn slid into a forward stance, green lightning sparking behind her eyes. Buffy's arrogant smile continued as she walked forward a few paces.

"I'll even give you the first hit," she said. Dawn's smile hardened as both Slade and Mr. Wink's eyes opened wider. The last time they'd seen that smile an entire biker gang had ended up splattered over her body.

"Fine by me," Dawn said. Then she vanished trailing streamers of green light. The only warning that Buffy had was the hard snap as Dawn's leg smashed into the backs of her knees. Pitching forward Buffy went into a roll. Rising again she was clotheslined by Dawn's outstretched arm. Her sister whirled delivering a series of punishing blows to Buffy's ribs, not an ounce of mercy in her expression. An openhanded swat to Buffy's throat caused her to seize up as her breathing passage was blocked. Dawn drove her knee into Buffy's stomach at least three times before vanishing again, re-materializing in a low sweep, knocking Buffy to the ground.

Blood leaked from a surprised Buffy's mouth as Dawn loomed over her. Her sisters eyes had begun to glow more and more powerfully. "You have no real idea what I went through to protect them, do you?"

"I learned to be a killer," Dawn whispered, leaning over her sister. The eerie light from her eyes bathed the circular arena in a soft minty glow. "Because if I fought with anything less than all that I had, Nuada would have killed me. I know it. I have the scars to prove what I went through. At least give me the respect of a genuine fight Buffy. Or I'll be forced to get _nasty_."

Dawn backed away, and Buffy slowly rolled to her feet. "I can't let you do this Dawn. I won't let this ruin your life the way it ruined mine. Fine, if serious is how you want to play it, I can do serious."

Then they were moving at an absurd rate. Dawn was noticeably slower than Buffy who was now going as full out as anyone present had ever seen her go. However, it seemed to be impossible for Buffy to land a clean hit. Dawn would vanish as the blow descended only to appear in another quadrant with a strike of her own descending. However, Buffy was the Slayer. After three minutes of constant beating, Buffy caught on to the timing that Dawn could use. Vanishing after a strike to her head, Dawn had to block a full speed punch to her newly rematerialized sternum.

There was a sickening snap as Dawn's arm broke like a twig underneath the terrible force of Buffy's strike. Dawn slid back five feet, her boots digging furrows in the lawn. Everyone could see how her arm was twisted. But Dawn just started laughing.

Buffy watched in fascinated horror as her little sister's eyes became like lanterns, and the white light began to creep up her hair, casting green and black shadows on the observers. Dawn reached out and grabbed the broken arm, and with a banshee scream twisted it back into place. The green light played over her forearm as she made a fist and flexed it a few times. The break seemed completely sealed.

"You _can_ play rough Buffy!" Dawn called out through her mad laughter, though Buffy's eyes could make out the small trails left by the tears of pain that Dawn must be in. "You hit like a freight train. No wonder the vamps are scared to death of you. Nice show. Now it's my turn."

Green lightning danced all over Dawn's arms, kicking the wind up a notch. Before Buffy could get over her stunned reaction, Dawn vanished and reappeared inches in front of her. The double-fisted blow to her stomach must have augmented by the green lightning, because Buffy found herself flying out of the ring to smash into a tree. Buffy slid down the rough bark of the trunk, as much in shock as anything else. Dawn slumped to one knee as Buffy's head lolled over to look at her.

"I win," Dawn said. Anya, who was acting as an impartial referee, gave a simple nod.

"Yup," she said. "The jumpy girl beats the Slayer."

There was a flash of blue light as the circle broke and everyone could feel a light wind tousle their hair, heavy with the scent of spring rain and flowers. Then Dawn was just a normal girl with strange hair again. Fred and Cordelia hurried over to her, helping her up onto their shoulders, and the three of them limped off the field.

Spike walked past them, halting a moment. "Nice show nibblet. The Slayer had no idea what hit her."

"Wouldn't have won if Buffy didn't let me," Dawn muttered. Spike laughed, tweaking her chin with cold fingers. Dawn glared at him, the effect ruined by her eyes beginning to droop. "She just stood there while I amped up."

"But you did win, eh?" Spike said, before continuing on to help Giles with Buffy. Dawn smirked to herself.

"Yeah," Dawn said with no small wonder. "I did, didn't I? Oh God, there'll be no living with her now."

"Can't be much worse than she was the last week and a half," Cordelia muttered. "And you gave her some pretty nice bruises to think about."

Dawn relished her victory for a moment, before dimly hearing Cordelia's squawk as she passed out completely. But she passed out with a smile on her face.

0oooo0oooo0

Cordelia stood on the Summers porch next to Dawn, as they watched the sun rise. She had gotten up as early as she could in order to hit the road before things got too crazy on the Santa Monica parking lot that had mistakenly been named a freeway. She had no urge to be caught in traffic all day long. Dawn had been up though; from the look of it she hadn't gone to sleep.

She knew that the last two weeks had been really hard on Dawn. First, her sister came back from the dead, ripped from heaven. Then the same sister tried to fit herself back into the way things were before the whole Glory mess and failing somewhat miserably. The worst was when Buffy had tried to order Dawn around. The screaming fight that the two of them had had last night had lasted for three hours. But after that knock down drag out fight from a week ago, there wasn't anything that Buffy could do. Giles had warned her at great length about the massive and unpleasant repercussions of breaking a Fae bargain. So mostly Buffy was sulking now, which might actually have been worse. She didn't know how Dawn could stand it.

"Before you go Cordy," Dawn said quietly. "There's some things I want you to know."

Despite the lingering fall warmth in the air, Cordelia drew her leather jacket closer. She felt cold. She'd heard the Summers girls use that tone of voice before. The last time she'd heard it was when Buffy had nearly bashed Angel's head in when he'd gone out of his way to protect Faith. It was deadly and furious. She was glad that it wasn't directed at her, but instead seemed to be pointed towards the rising sun.

"Like what?" Cordelia asked. Dawn's rage eased off a little and she sent Cordelia a sidelong glance out of the corner of her eye.

"Like do you actually know what the Powers that Be truly are?" Dawn asked. Cordelia shrugged in response.

"Aren't they like the angels or something?" Cordelia ventured. Dawn laughed out loud.

"Or something," Dawn said, looking back towards the rising sun. "Tell you what; let me tell you a story. In the beginning the First Will created the fabric of the universe, everything under heaven and earth. This was the time before there were any living creatures. God saw that it was cool, so he made his first servants in the material plane. They were called the Watchers; or Greater Spirits depending on who you ask. And that was what they did. They watched things. I was one of the things that came before; not really alive, but not inanimate either."

Cordelia's eyes weren't quite bugging out, but she was looking slightly pale. Dawn forged on ahead heedless of Cordelia's discomfort. "Well one day the most powerful of those Greater Spirits that watched Earth, one of the core foundations of the universe, got tired of sitting around and watching. Maybe he listened to the whispers of the First Lie or something. I dunno what he was thinking honestly. Well he and a whole boatload of his confidants got together. From the clay they crafted the Great Dragon. It was called the Ogdru Jahad by the Hyperboreans. I guess that's as good a name as any for them."

"At the last moment, the greatest of those Watchers raised his right hand and stole the fire, the great spark of Prometheus, from God Himself to bring the Ogdru Jahad to life. Nothing happened. Disappointed, those watchers left to do other things, just leaving it where it lay. When night fell though... the Ogdru Jahad woke. In one night it spawned 369 children. They were the Ogdru Hem, or the Old Ones if you're going by demon naming conventions. They were mighty, fell, nearly unstoppable. When the sun rose again and the Watchers saw what they had done, they panicked. They declared war upon the Ogdru Hem. It was bloody and terrible. It reshaped the Earth completely. And when it was over the Ogdru Hem were imprisoned beneath the earth, or their remains interred in the Deeper Well. The greatest Watcher then used his right hand to seal the Ogdru Jahad away for all eternity. Only their grandchildren, the debased creatures that we call the pure blood demons survived the purge."

"But those Greater Spirits," Dawn said, clucking with her tongue, fixing her eyes on her own palms. "Well they tried to hide this from the First Will. Except that the First Will knows everything, so that was pretty stupid. They should have known better. The other spirits attempted to destroy the greatest of them, ripping him apart and scattering his pieces to the winds. When the First Will got around to them he was furious, both for their irresponsible actions, and their vain punishment of their brother. He stripped them of their divine status and cast them into the pit."

"So," Dawn said with an amused expression. "If the demons and the Senior Partners of Wolfram and Hart, for example, are the descendants of the Ogdru Jahad... who opposes them?"

"The Powers that..." Cordelia stopped. She blinked twice. "You're kidding me."

"Not in the slightest," Dawn said. "They are the fallen angels, Cordelia. Most of them are equated with the biblical Satan; they're more like the old testament Satan though. That guy is much more a person who screws with people just to see if they're still loyal to God. A kind of Devil's advocate. Sure fits with what they did to that guy Doyle, eh?"

"Yeah," Cordelia said. She was beginning to understand, and the more she understood, the less happy she was feeling.

"Exactly," Dawn said. She made a slight placating gesture. "That doesn't mean they aren't interested in humans winning. It's just that they look at us as tools to destroy the last taint of their greatest mistake. We're weapons to them. We always have been. Hell, I figure one of them might have even empowered the slayer, not a true demon like the legend says. It would give them influence over her and the Slayer is certainly one of the most reliable weapons against the Ogdru Hem that the Powers have. Still, don't trust their agents, even if you have to trust the visions. Don't make deals with them."

"So fallen angels and demons are different," Cordelia managed. Dawn nodded again. She wrapped her arms around her torso. The sweatshirt she was wearing must have belonged to someone three sizes bigger than her, because Dawn looked like she was wearing a tent. On instinct Cordelia wrapped an arm around Dawn's shoulders.

"Just be careful, Cordy," Dawn whispered into Cordelia's chest. "Don't let them ruin your life. They don't give a hoot about your suffering."

"You gave me a chance to be free," Cordelia said quietly. "Thank you for that."

"The best way of thanking me is to watch your back," Dawn said. She pulled back from the embrace and looked Cordelia deep in the eye. "If you need anything. I mean it; if you feel outgunned or just want someone to talk to send me a message. I'll come as soon as I'm able."

"Alright," Cordelia said. She grinned a little. "Buck up kid. If you can face down a fallen angel, I figure you're not going to have any trouble with a crazy sister. If you want to talk, just give me a call."

"I'll do that," Dawn said. She gave Cordelia a playful swat. "Now get going, or you're going to be stuck in traffic for like six hours."

Cordelia got into her Corvette and put it in gear. Dawn waved as she pulled out, and watched long after she'd disappeared around the bend down the street. Dawn turned around and walked back into the house. She turned on the coffee maker and walked to where Fred was sleeping curled into a cute little ball on the couch. With a slight smirk, she walked upstairs and into her room. She pulled out the new suit that Cordelia had helped her pick out and laid it on her bed.

Now for the hard part. Demons and Fallen were easy. Your first day of work? That one was a _real_ killer.

0oooo0oooo0

Dawn hadn't been in the new office yet, but it was located at a former storefront that had been abandoned some time before Buffy had even graduated from high school. You wouldn't know it now, though. The fresh paint on the outside of the storefront and the new glass practically sparkled. Dawn looked up at the symbol painted on the door, three golden letter Ss, laid out in a triangular pattern that made it look almost like a treskille. She liked it.

Taking out the key that Fred had given her last night, she inserted it into the lock and opened the door with a careful motion. The front lobby area was neat, a single receptionist desk sitting in the open had a modest pile of papers on it. Slade looked up from where he was sitting. Dawn started when he moved. She hadn't been expecting anyone else to be here at six this morning. He smiled.

"Hello Aurora," Slade said. "Welcome to the office."

"The outside looks great Slade," she said. Slade shook his head.

"Wait 'till you see the inside. That'll really blow your mind away. Would you like a tour?"

"That would be awesome," Dawn said, placing her new briefcase behind the receptionist desk. She pulled out her spear and tucked it into a holster arrangement that hung from the inside of her gray suit coat. She gestured towards the door as Slade gave her an amused look. "Well, get with the touring, why don't you?"

Slade got to his feet and swept behind the bare front office and into the back. Once they were past the front area, it was very clear that things were still under construction. The walls here weren't painted yet, and some of the drywall hadn't been fully installed. Everything seemed to be working though.

"Sorry," Slade said, stepping gingerly over an abandoned nail gun. "Your Mr. Harris is still working on this sector. However I'm sure his firm appreciates the business. Now the first door to your right is the filing room. Nothing there yet except for some cabinets. Across from that is our wonderful supply closet, and the rest of these little areas are going to be offices for employees who join up later."

Slade had reached the end of the corridor and pulled out another set of keys. Taking two separate ones and inserting them into a pair of locks, the door swung open. Noting how heavy it was, Dawn raised an eyebrow.

"Security door," Slade explained. "Rated to .50 caliber bullets apparently. Whatever that means. Anyhow, here we have the real heart of the operation."

They were in another hallway, however this one only had one door to the left and five or six to the right. Slade opened the door to the left and ushered her through. The door swung open and it was all Dawn could do to keep her jaw from flopping open. The other side was unlike anything she'd ever seen before. It was like the shop at the school but taken fifty years into the future. She couldn't identify half of the things she was looking at. Most of it was factory, but there was a small firing range with a bunch of not easily identifiable pieces of equipment leaning against the wall. The furthest part of the room had a large loading dock and three really heavy looking garage doors. There was probably enough space for three large vehicles in there. Two bays were empty now, and one held six pristine looking motorcycles lined up three by two. Slade smirked at her expression.

"This is our dear Fred's workshop," Slade said. He walked over to a nearby bench and picked up a crossbow that was almost four feet long. He slammed the heavy composite frame on the ground, the long arms swung out. Slade raised it up and Dawn noticed it had a strange looking magazine on the top of the weapon. Working a lever at the end of it like a Winchester, he locked a bolt into place. With a casual gesture he turned and aimed the weapon at an already abused looking plate of steel twenty feet down range. The twang was audible and Dawn's eyes widened when the bolt sunk half a foot into the metal. She looked over at Slade whose smile had become feral.

"Straight through four inches of plate steel," Slade said. "Fred told me a saying; never piss off an engineer. I am beginning to understand why. Such a weapon would be able to hurt me even in my full dragon form if aimed properly. Of course only myself or a person as strong as a Slayer could operate it, but that's a small price to pay. Our dearest Winnifred has become quite interested in crafting weapons that take our unique... advantages into account. Of course she could probably fabricate one of those charming automobile contraptions down here if she wanted to do so."

Dawn walked over to a bench and looked down at what looked like engineering schematics. The components on the white page she was looking at she could hardly understand, but it looked almost like an arm of some kind. An arm made out of steel according to the margin notes. She looked up.

"Slade," she began. "What is this?"

"That?" Slade asked. He walked over and peered down at it. "Oh... that. Well, that my dear girl is something Winnifred found that piqued her interest. You remember the homonculous that you called the er... 'Buffybot'?"

"Yeah," Dawn said slowly. Slade picked up the paper and looked at it through the light streaming down from above.

"Well," Slade said. "According to Fred, the most fascinating thing about it was actually its power source. Whatever that means. She's analyzing the er... 'reactor' I believe? She is working on what she called 'alternate applications'. You'll have to ask her yourself."

"I'll do that," Dawn muttered. Slade motioned out with his arm.

"Shall we?"

Numbly, Dawn followed him out of the workshop and across to another area. It opened up onto a small conference table, maybe enough for a dozen normal people. The next door down proved to be the oddest one yet. It simply opened up onto a very heavy metal circle set into the ground. Slade motioned to it. Dawn reached down and twisted the wheel on top of it, causing it to slide aside. A huge ladder led down into the depths. Taking a careful breath, she climbed down into the pit. It didn't actually lead out into the sewers like she thought. Instead it was something that must have been an underground vamp nest at some point.

The room was at least thirty feet on a side, and it was now scattered with over sized furniture and she noticed a familiar sword that no human could possibly lift put onto a rack next to a door leading out. She walked towards the door, her flats echoing on the stone floor. Pulling it open, she saw another room nearly as big as the first. Mr. Wink sat on a bench set into the wall. The room was an eerie replica of the training room she'd once had beneath Manhattan. Down to the stone arches in fact. Racks were set into the walls, though, and it looked like some of the things that Fred had been working on had already made their way down here. In addition, a large pile of tatami mats were laid on the side of the room.

"It's beautiful," Dawn whispered. "You did this?"

Mr. Wink nodded. She shot him a brilliant smile.

"Thank you for this," she said. She walked over, kneeling down to run her hands along the circular symbols set into the training room floor. It felt... like home. Much more like a home than her own house did at the moment.

"This is nothing," Slade said. "Come on, you haven't even seen the real neat place yet."

Dawn laughed. "I think it'll be hard to top Fred's workshop and the training room."

"I like a challenge," was Slade's only response. She got to her feet.

"Fine," she said in a playfully adversarial voice. "Top this."

Wordlessly they went back up to the top of the building. Walking past the next three doors, they went to the final one, ascending two flights of stairs. The top floor opened up into three different doors. She noticed that there were no name plates on these, but rather a series of symbols. The left most door had something that looked like a stylized axe on it. The center door had the symbol of a key pointing down. The final door had a pair of outstretched leathery wings carved into it.

Slade went to the center door and opened it up and ushered her through. There was a small hallway. One single door to the left and one at the very end. Slade walked to the left first and opened it up. Dawn's smiled in delight when she realized this was a full studio apartment built into it. She looked at Slade. He shook his head and closed the door, gesturing to the final door.

Hesitantly, Dawn reached out and touched the doorknob. She felt something within; a lock that had no outside key. She turned to Slade who just shrugged and gestured at it again. Channeling a bit of her power, Dawn moved the locks aside and the door (much heavier than it looked) swung aside. This time her breath was truly taken away. It was an office. An office unlike anything she'd ever seen.

Set into the floor were a series of constellations, brass in black stone. At the very center of the room a huge brass key was set into the star pattern. Dawn realized with a start that it was the exact same pattern as her armor. She turned to the rest of the room. To one side was a reading stand, flanked by a series of huge bookshelves. To the other was a table with four chairs around it. At the center there was a huge and old looking desk, again with the Key and stars motif worked into the front. The thick wall behind it had a pair of tall full length windows that looked out over Sunnydale. Well away from the desk, of course. The wall directly behind her desk had a rack for weapons set into it, and she spied something that looked like a walk in closet to one side.

"Your office, Aurora," Slade said quietly. "It isn't much, but it was the least we could do for an Outsider of your stature."

"But... this is..." Dawn began.

"Too much?" Slade finished. She nodded mutely. Slade released a sigh.

"You are an incredibly powerful embodied spirit, Aurora," Slade said. "One of limited scope perhaps, but a greater spirit nonetheless. It's time you started to think like one and not as a teenage human. You are ready for this. Your sister is the Slayer; her office is suitable as well, but of the three of us you are perhaps the greatest. Certainly the eldest."

Dawn strode over to the high backed leather chair behind her desk. Carefully she sat in it and turned to look at Slade. He stood respectfully in silence as she slowly relaxed back into her chair. Leaning forward, Dawn carefully laced her fingers together. It was as if she transformed from the awkward teenager to embodied force of nature with just that simple gesture.

"Alright," she said, letting a slow sigh escape her lips. Her expression became one of intense concentration. Her green eyes fixed upon Slade, the faint light from their Jacob's Ladder lightning mixing with the light of the rising sun pooling on the office floor. "Well since I guess this is the day for new beginnings, how do we stand Winston?"

Slade gave her a needle toothed smile. "May I just say, it's good to have you on board boss. Very good."

0oooo0oooo0

Buffy was pissed. Which, in hindsight, was probably a good thing. It was the first emotion she'd felt strongly in three weeks other than the pain of the mortal world. She still was having trouble accepting that Dawn had beat her, but she had and she'd done it in front of everyone, including her new cronies. It had been hell for Buffy, more even that the persistent agony of the physical world. Her sister shouldn't be like that; Dawnie was pure... not some laughing maniac that could set a bone in seconds with a smile on her face.

Why had she become that... why was she so different?

Had Buffy failed so completely?

And on top of that what the _hell_ was with the freaking frog demons? She swung her axe, burying it in the face of one of the frog men. It gave a horrible croaking sound as it collapsed to the ground, convulsing. She pulled the axe from its face and whirled at the remaining creatures.

"All right, who wants some, huh?" she asked. The six creatures jumped at her with a surprising coordination. The first one died with the axe buried in its chest. Dropping the weapon, Buffy drew a pair of knives from the inside of her coat. The first one found it's way into the eye socket of the next lucky customer, the second went through the throat of another. However the remaining three then pinned her down with a sort of mass tackle. A long tongue snaked out towards her face as she attempted to buck the creatures off of her. A strong hand wreathed in flames darted out and grabbed the tongue. There was a horrible screech from the frog as it was hurled aside like a toy, shattering it's back on a nearby mausoleum.

"My," Slade said with a smile. He reached down and grabbed the other two in his burning hands. "By human standards I've learned that creativity with the tongue is quite forward. Perhaps you should reconsider it if you ever have the chance to walk the world again."

He snapped both their necks with a bestial snarl of effort. Dropping the corpses, the flames on his hand extinguished themselves. He held out a hand to her.

"If you died again I think Aurora would loose her mind for certain," Slade said as Buffy grabbed his hand. With an easy pull, she came to her feet, glaring at him slightly. "Now I've done a lot of things in my life to deserve glares, but helping out an outnumbered ally isn't one of them. What's your problem Slayer?"

"Other than the fact that I don't know my sister anymore?" she asked archly. "And that my crazy friends decided to bring me back from the dead without really thinking about the consequences?"

"Hah," Slade laughed. "Your sister doesn't even know herself. How could you know her?"

Buffy stopped. Slade raised an eyebrow at her. "You didn't know that?"

"No," Buffy said slowly. "She seemed to have a good idea of what she was doing the other night."

Slade snorted as he pulled one of Buffy's daggers out of a frog man and handed it to her carefully. "No. Thinking you know what you want and knowing what you want are completely different things. You confuse her, you know that? She did an incredible thing; she gave up her life, gave up her future as a human being, and embraced something that will forever remove her from the species she thinks of as her own. And she did it because you asked her to."

"I never asked her to hurt herself like this," Buffy exclaimed with an angry glare. Slade's return look was cool and mildly amused.

"Hm," he murmured. "Well, according to what she told me, the last thing you said to her was 'look after them for me, look after each other. Live for me'. Now if that isn't what she did I don't know what is. She sacrificed her innocence to protect them, to ensure that you could rest in peace and that you were loved. That the honor that the Summers name has won in the greater world in the last six years would not die with your last breath. I spoke with Mr. Wink at great length. Did you know he was one of those who trained her?"

Buffy shook her head. "I actually don't know his story at all."

"She saved his life," Slade said quietly. "Because she was the only one who could. He told me once that she cried every night for months when they were training her. Some was from the pain that they put her through, but more for the things she lost; maybe the things she never had. Then one day she moved past it. Past the hurt and she learned to love you without guilt, without shame. She trained like a god, Buffy, because she had the focus, the purpose stripped of the hurt. All that was left was her determination to make you proud of her. She was living for you. Just like you asked. And now you see the result. She's a hero Buffy, and all that she's asking from you is that you acknowledge that. Is that so hard for you to do?"

"She shouldn't have to..." Buffy began. Slade's arm shot out and lifted her off the ground without warning. He looked into her eyes, his own molten gold that seemed to flash with fire. And for the first time Buffy realized what it was to look a dragon in the eye. That ancient gaze weighed her, and though the Slayer stared straight back, the part of her that was Buffy Summers couldn't help but feel tiny in comparison.

"Buffy Summers," Slade said quietly. "You are not God. You are not the Ogdru Jahad. You are not the First Evil. You are not even truly the Slayer anymore. You, much like Aurora and myself, are a glitch. An error in the system set up by the Fallen Gods to rule this world without interference. Accept the fact that this world is full of those who risk their lives every day to fight against the darkness. Your burden is heavier than some, but it is _never_ yours alone. Your sister is a _God_. And you would judge her? Coddle her? Pathetic."

He released her, and Buffy fell to the ground. Leaning over, Slade gave her a critical look. "And until you let go of that martyr complex, you will be less than half the woman you could be. Let go of this... idiocy. Help her. Help her to protect the world."

"Not you?" Buffy asked hoarsely, shooting him a halfhearted glare. "Why are you doing this? Why are you helping her, what do you get out of it?"

"I am," Slade began, and then paused for a moment. Shaking his head, he looked back at her with a very sad expression. "I am paying back a debt to Aurora. A very old one, one that I might just owe the whole world. Liam isn't the only one with an... interesting past my young friend."

"That isn't a answer," Buffy said accusingly. Slade's expression became truly predatory, a wall of razored fangs that stretched too far for any human mouth.

"Tell you what," Slade said. "You stop wanting to die and I'll tell you why I do what I do. Deal?"

Buffy recoiled as if struck, but Slade's smile left her nowhere to turn away. Finally she lowered her stare and looked at her hands.

"I just wanted her to have a better life," Buffy whispered. "Where her boyfriend wouldn't loose his soul and try to kill her. Where she could eat ice cream with her friends and night and not have to worry about grisly death and apocalypses year 'round. Guess that's pretty stupid huh?"

"Yes," Slade said, looking away from her. "But understandable."

"She's still pissed at me isn't she?" Buffy asked. Slade shrugged, focusing on the far horizon.

"I think she's more sad than anything," Slade responded. "She misses her sister. I don't think she's sure she got you back, really."

"I'm not sure she did either," Buffy said quietly. Slade nodded.

"And that, I believe, is the true problem."

0oooo0oooo0

It turned out that work wasn't quite as bad as Dawn had been afraid it would. It was interesting that even with glamour changed hair (she'd colored it a more normal blonde color for working outside) and a facial scar, dressing in a five hundred dollar suit did wonders. That and working with Winston Slade. A smoother man she had never met.

The speed with which she'd evaluated their security system (based upon her Key powers, locks really weren't that much of a challenge) had impressed them enough that they wanted the full report on their desks by tomorrow evening. Slade was handling the personnel part, and Fred was handling the software stuff, leaving Dawn with the physical security of the place. It was only about a fifth of the report, but Dawn had never written something like this before, it was going much more slowly than it would otherwise.

Still, it had been exhilarating, moving around important people and having them actually _listen_ to her for once. Unlike her dysfunctional family. So here she was, in her office at two in the morning, still working away. The report was almost done really. All she had to do was edit the electronic lock analysis for their vault a little...

"Hey."

That single word caused Dawn to look up from the notes she'd taken on the First National Bank security system. Buffy was standing in her office, looking around a little in awe.

"Welcome to the office," Dawn said. "How'd you get in?"

"Slade let me in," Buffy said. "He ran into me on patrol. He offered to show me the place, and I got to say, _way_ step up on a Doublemeat Palace."

"One hundred percent agreement there," Dawn said. She leaned back in her chair and gave Buffy a stern gaze. "Look, if you're here to give me more crap about this, then you can just walk out the door right now. I made my decision, and I've got a lot of work to do."

"I know that," Buffy said. Dawn blinked, and it was Buffy's turn to smirk a little. "Slade, er, beat some sense into me I guess."

She flopped down in one of the chairs around the small conference table. Dawn got out from behind her desk and walked over to the conference table. She sat down next to Buffy and sighed. Buffy played with her hands for a moment before looking up to meet Dawn's eyes.

"I'm sorry Dawnie," she said quietly. "I... I was scared, you know? I get... yanked out of heaven I think. Then you're all scarred and hurt."

Dawn opened her mouth to speak, but Buffy held up a hand.

"Quiet. This is hard enough," Buffy said. Dawn's mouth shut with a 'clack'. Buffy smiled. "That's better. I mean, so many things are different. I didn't even get used to the idea of mom being dead and then... well, here we are."

"Yeah," Dawn said, lost in her own thoughts. "Joyce was an amazing woman."

"Mom," Buffy corrected sharply. Dawn started, and looked over to find Buffy giving her a steady frown. "You may have won the right to work in this place, but don't you dare call her anything other than Mom."

"Okay," Dawn whispered. Buffy grinned again and leaned forward. Gingerly she tucked an errant strand of Dawn's hair behind her head.

"But with all the being scared and the not being dead," Buffy said. "I never got to tell you just how _proud_ I am of you Dawnie. Proud and sad."

Dawns eyes teared up as she leaned into her sister's hand. "Don't..."

"No," Buffy said suddenly. "I'm not sad that you are who you are. I'm sad because this world needs us like it does. At this rate no Summers girl will ever have a normal teenage social life."

"Us?" Dawn asked with a desperate hope in her voice. Buffy gave her a firm nod.

"You remember after mom died?" she asked. Dawn nodded with hesitation, and Buffy continued. "I meant it then and I mean it now. I'm just dumb some times."

"You've always been dumb," Dawn said, pulling Buffy out of her chair with a strength that surprised the Slayer. She hugged Buffy to her, tucking her older sister's head under her chin. Tears were running down Dawn's face, but she was smiling. "And short."

"Not my fault someone slipped you all those growth hormones," Buffy said. "I don't even think you're a USDA Approved Dawn anymore."

"Nope," Dawn replied. "Too much green energy for a healthy diet. Too bad, there goes the market."

Buffy gave a single laugh and the two sisters separated. "Now tell me all about this bank breaking business. Sounds like fun."

"If you like writing papers," Dawn said with a grin. "Which I love..."

"...and I hate," Buffy finished with a distasteful expression. "Okay."

"Well don't worry," Dawn said with a grin. "I'll just write your papers for you, like I did in your senior year of high school."

"_So_ not fair," Buffy moaned. "And that didn't even happen."

"But if you remember it, does that make it real?" Dawn trailed off. "Now come on, I was just finishing this one up. You'll love this. Next time we'll take you with and you can run all their guards through the wringer. They wanna be secure on the Hellmouth, they're going to have to up their standards."

Buffy's smile made the barbed wire surrounding Dawn's heart ease just a little bit. And for the first time since she'd stumbled onto the resurrection of her sister, Dawn Summers thought that this might just work out after all.


	10. Chapter 9 The First Job

Disclaimer: Hellboy is the property of Dark Horse Comics and Mike Mignola. Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel are both the property of Mutant Enemy and their affiliates. I own neither, and am writing this neither for commercial distribution nor profit. If they so require I will take this down whenever they ask. Original Characters are my property and may be used only with permission. Seriously folks, all you have to do is ask. I'm writing Fanfiction for crying out loud.

9. The First Job is always the Dumbest

Warren reverently opened the package in front of him. Andrew and Jonathan were each at one shoulder. They both had expressions of extreme excitement on their faces.

"Is that it?" Andrew prompted. Jonathan smacked him on the shoulder.

"Yes, of course it is," Warren interjected before the two of his minions could get into a hissy fight like they were prone to do. "It is one of the Amulets of the Katha Hem. It can channel the power of the Hellmouth to summon demons. Ones powerful enough for us to finally get our feet underneath us. Do some real mischief."

"Excellent," Andrew said with a broad smile. "Holodeck here we come."

"Not so fast," Warren said, raising his hand to forestall Andrew's 'happy dance'. "Andrew, I'm going to need you to do your part now. Call up the demon like we were going to before."

Andrew nodded and went over to a nearby desk to pick up his pan pipes. Setting them to his mouth he began to play a tune. Jonathan gave Warren a lifted eyebrow and Warren clutched the Amulet of Katha Hem close to his chest. The tell-tale distortion of a dimensional summoning rippled through the room. There was a flash of light.

The demon stood tall, horned and fanged. Jonathan and Andrew backed away from it and it took a step forward. That was until Warren raised his hand, amulet held high.

"Na ogoth lith mekan Katha Hem nogth!" Warren shouted. The demon recoiled from him, hissing in pain as it fell to its knees. Finally it looked up at him through slitted eyes.

"What do you wish... Priest of Katha Hem?"

Warren smiled. Everything was proceeding as he had foreseen.

0oooo0oooo0

"So Mr. Savitsky," Dawn said with a smile. She handed him a folio with the details typed up on it. "It looks like the locks on these doors will need to be upgraded."

"Are you sure Ms. Summers?" Savitsky asked. Dawn gave him a thousand watt smile that she'd stolen from Cordelia.

"Absolutely," she said primly. "I mean, the way they are now, is like totally way under spec."

Mr. Savitsky gave her an extremely dubious look and appeared to be about to say something. At least until a hulking demon smashed the front door of the bank in with a horrible screech of tortured metal. Mr. Savitsky looked at Dawn in open mouthed shock, and Dawn gave him a shrug.

"Told you," she said. She reached inside her gray suit jacket and whirled her spear out. The baton extended itself as she turned to face the demon. "Hey ugly. No deposits after four p.m."

"A human stands against me?" the demon roared. Savitsky looked shocked as Dawn grinned like a predator.

"Not hardly," she leaped forward, stabbing at him with her spear. The demon hissed as it barely deflected the weapon. The cut that the spear blade made on its arm smoked a little. It backed away, sulfurous eyes narrowed. The narrow eyes went wide when a bolt suddenly punched its way through the demon's chest from behind. It scrabbled at the wound for a moment, until Dawn's spear separated its head from its shoulders. It's skull bounced with a horrible thunk sound on the bank's linoleum floor, the wound cauterized instantly by the Faerie weapon.

Its collapsing body revealed Fred, standing there with one of her arbalests looking insufferably proud. Dawn retracted her spear and gave Fred a thumb's up that Fred returned tentatively. Dawn retracted the haft of her spear and turned back to Mr. Savitsky, shaking her head at him.

"And that Mr. Savitsky," Dawn said with a saccharine smile, wiping her spear blade off with a clean handkerchief she'd taken out of her suit jacket. "Is what happens when you skimp on security in this town. If you'd like someone to install the work, may I recommend these folks? As honest as they come in that business around here."

Xander's business card was carefully inserted into Mr. Savitsky's limp hands and Dawn gave him a sunny wave before putting the folio on his desk and turning away. On her way out, she stopped next to Fred and gave her a much more vicious smirk.

"I told you that thing would come in handy," Dawn said. "Good work."

"It was nothing," Fred said in a bashful voice. At that moment, Fred cocked her head to the side, her eyes going wide. "Um Aurora? I think the demon wasn't just here for property destruction."

"Wha?" Dawn asked, spinning on her heel. She saw the three retreating teens, moving a lot quicker than anyone who wasn't trying to leave the scene of a crime in a hurry. "Oh no you don't... no one uses demons to rob banks in our town. Fred, get the van over here. I've got some miscreants to 'educate' on the finer points of summoning etiquette."

0oooo0oooo0

Warren was huffing as he dragged the two idiots behind him. They'd managed to get in and out and grab the money, sure; but that new demon, whoever she was, happened to be there. Wasn't that just icing on the cake? All they needed now was to run into the Slayer...

A crossbow bolt buried itself in the ground in front of him caused Warren and the other two to come up short. The demon was standing in front of them now, as if she'd been lazily waiting there for them the entire time.

"Hello boys," she said in a deep voice. Her hair was streaked with blonde and her eyes were an eerie shade of green. In her hands she held some kind of repeating crossbow weapon that was already cocked. The bolt was pointed at Andrew's chest at the moment. Warren had to say, she was hot even in a business suit, and the cocky swagger she'd affected was the kind of thing to make any nerd boy's higher brain functions shut down. Johnathan was already drooling.

"Now," she continued. "I'm called Aurora. You three sicc'ed that demon on the poor bank over there didn't you? Don't bother answering, I saw you running. So normally I wouldn't have much to do with a bank robbery, but people who use demons for breaking and entering work get my attention real fast. So why don't we all just chill right here while the nice cops show up and take you away."

"I have a better idea," Warren said. His hand, in his jacket pocket, had closed around a sigil of Saint George. Supposedly these thing disrupted the bodies of demons if they touched. It might banish a weak demon, but it was a hell of a distraction for even the big guys. He threw the sigil at her with an uncharacteristic coordination. "Why don't we play catch?'

Aurora's hand shot out on instinct and closed around the sigil. There was a horrible sense of gravity twisting in on itself and for a split second the Trio saw... something. It made the DS9 wormhole look like the abstract art of an amateur. Cables of green energy lanced between dimensions at angles that no sane human had ever had a name for. Most of all the energy was _aware_. And Warren had the horrible sense that it was _watching_ him.

Then it was over and Aurora collapsed to the ground moaning. The Trio were brought out of their funk by the screeching of tires behind him. A lean looking Japanese motorcycle with a scary looking blonde woman on the back of it howled around the corner, followed by a white van with a triple S emblazoned on the side of it.

Cursing, Warren turned to Jonathan. "Do the spell, now!"

Jonathan pulled out bag full of something. Muttering at an admirable speed, he reached inside the pouch and tossed the powder up in the air. The three of them vanished with a shimmer of light. Dawn pushed herself up onto her elbows and exhaled shakily.

Buffy screamed to a halt next to her, practically leaping off her motorcycle. "Dawn, are you okay?"

"I'm fine, I think," Dawn said with a frown. "But I felt like someone hit me with a taser. Only, you know, no taser."

Buffy didn't look too mollified, but Dawn grinned and limped over to pick up the bag that Warren had been forced to drop. It was full of cash. "At least we saved what they owe us. They've got no excuse not to pay us now, that's for sure."

0oooo0oooo0

"So thankfully the bank was appropriately grateful," Buffy said with a grimace. They had called a meeting in Dawn's office after they'd gotten back. "They gave us cashy monies and everything."

Just about everyone was there, excluding Anya who was currently manning the Magic Box. Dawn was slumped in her chair, holding her pounding head. Spike lounged against her desk, very careful not to cross any bands of sunlight from the windows.

"I don't like the idea of anyone hurting the bit though," Spike muttered. "That's my job."

"You wish," Dawn shot back, leaning forward. "Look, whoever these losers were, they had way more magical firepower than I like. They had a demon on hand, and something that could knock one of the Spirits on her butt for a few minutes."

"I could do a locater spell?" Willow offered. Giles shot her a dark look. "Or... not."

"I can locate him I think," Dawn muttered. "If my head would just stop spinning."

"Well I suppose it is good to know that some demon affecting artifacts will affect you as well," Giles said in a hopeful voice. Dawn nodded.

"Yeah, better this than finding out in the middle of the next attempt to open the Hellmouth or something."

"Well we still have three bank robbers on the loose," Buffy said. Willow looked thoughtful and gave Fred a look. Fred returned it warily, and nodded.

"I think we may have something," Fred's soft accent interjected. "What happens when most people get a lot of money?"

"They spend it," Xander snapped his fingers. Fred nodded.

"Willow and I could keep an eye on the net for any large transactions that happen in Sunnydale, like property and stuff."

"Or high tech equipment," Willow said.

Buffy frowned. "I'm not Ms. Internet here, but isn't that a lot of things to look for?"

"Property or remodeling work would be easiest to track," Fred admitted. "We could focus on that."

"Excellent," Dawn said. She got up and stumbled a little. Spike caught her as she gave the assembled team a wan smile. "Now, if no one minds, I'm going to go pass out on my bed here. See you later tonight."

Fred accompanied Willow down to her workshop on the floor below as Buffy and Slade proceeded to finish up some work. Apparently someone wanted a bodyguard for a few nights while they were in town next week. Buffy had been rented out. At nearly eight hundred bucks an hour at that. Fred wondered what would happen if Buffy actually ever realized her true market value.

Willow pulled up a spare terminal and began to work. Fred watched her out of the corner of her eye (Pylea hadn't done wonders for her trusting nature...), but when she appeared to be genuinely working Fred relaxed slightly and pulled up the personal project that she'd been working on. The robotics connections continued to defy her. The engineering that she was cribbing it from was just too... foreign. Several hours must have passed, but Fred had never been good at keeping track of time. The tap on her shoulder brought her out of her trance.

"Hey," Dawn said with a grin. She was dressed in backless shirt that tied around her neck and jeans that were really way too tight. Fred started.

"Oh, hi," Fred said, leaning back and blinking. "What time is it?"

"Clubbing time of course," Dawn said with a mischievous twinkle in her eye. Fred gave her a dubious look, and Dawn pouted. "No come on. I know Cordelia dragged you out at least once to get some clothes."

"Oh," Fred said quietly. "Well, yes, but I..."

"Come _on_," Dawn said, her pout now in full force. "This is my night off of patrol. Spike and Buffy have it covered. A girl needs to dance. And a girl needs a friend to dance with, or she has to deal with icky guys who're one ten thousandth her age and still gross."

"I guess pretty much everyone is cradle robbing t'you," Fred said with a laugh. "Okay, okay. Where are we going?"

"I figure we play it safe," Dawn said. "Go down to the Dragon's Wing, test out Slade and Xander's new dance floor. It'll be awesome. And we won't have to worry about blending in with the normal people. That's been getting harder for me."

Fred blinked as Dawn did a slow twirl. The green pigment which had once just been around her hairline now traced an intricate green leopard-like pattern down her spinal column. Fred knew quite well that hadn't been there a few weeks ago. She looked Dawn in the eye.

"Is this something I should be concerned about?" Fred asked. Dawn shrugged.

"I don't know honestly," Dawn replied. "But I think what's been happening is that the magic I'm made out of is adapting itself to my harder life. It's making me more like, I dunno, an old one or a demon I guess. Trying to reduce my injuries. I've noticed that I don't get hurt as easily as I used too, and my endurance and strength get better much faster than most people's. I guess the downside is that I don't really look all that human after a while."

"All right," Fred said with a shake of her head. "I guess I do need to get out more. It's a shame that Charles lives in L.A.. He was cute."

"Gunn?" Dawn asked, following Fred as the older woman began to shed clothing as she reached her room in the back. She'd requested that they add on her small apartment as being part of the shop and Slade hadn't objected. It certainly made commuting easier, and she didn't have a ton of things. Dawn leaned at the edge of the door to her small apartment and looked thoughtful. "He was a cutie, that's true."

"More like smoldering hot," Fred muttered. Dawn gave her a giggly and somewhat scandalized look.

"I never knew you had it in you girl," Dawn said with a grin. The grin faded as she watched Fred pull off her glasses and don the 'club outfit' that Cordelia had gotten for her. There was a tasteful camisole thing, and some very tight pants, but Cordelia had assured her she looked stunning in it. Fred didn't believe it and Dawn's expression of amazement made her frown.

"I know it doesn't look as good as what you've got," Fred began, and Dawn's eyes widened and she shook her head enthusiastically.

"No, that's not it at all," Dawn said. "Fred... you know that if you actually ever cared, you could be stupid hot, right?"

Fred blinked. "Really?"

"Really," Dawn said. She got a malicious grin. "Come on, I've got an idea. I wanna screw with the guys' heads."

0oooo0oooo0

Willow Rosenberg was not a happy camper at the moment. In fact she was just about as far from happy as was possible. Tara watched her girlfriend pacing with a worried expression. Finally Willow stopped in her tracks with a pouty frown.

"Why won't they let me help?" Willow asked the ceiling of their dorm room. "I mean I can cast some powerful magic. I could have just found those three... hooligans in a minute. Look here, see? Serious girl, right here. All I needed to do was cast one locater spell, that's it. But nooo, we can't have that can we? Saint Dawn and, and, Preacher Giles can't have that now can they? So now we're running some computer search that _Fred _suggested. What kind of a name is Fred for a girl anyway? Irresponsible use of magic. I aughtta show them how you _really_ use magic."

"C-c-c-calm down Willow," Tara whispered. She seemed torn, unhappy that Willow was so disturbed, but she still hesitated. "The computer thing was your idea too."

"Why don't they trust me? I did it! I brought Buffy back from the dead, me Willow Rosenberg! I can help with this too," Willow ranted. She seemed to be ignoring Tara at least partly. Tara frowned, trying to get a little better control of the situation.

"They're just worried," Tara said in a soothing voice. "They know how dangerous the magic can be. They just don't want you to push yourself too hard o-o-or too fast."

"Too fast?" Willow challenged. "Where was Saint Dawn when it was just me and the Buffybot here, huh? Off with her fairies and trolls and dragons. She just left us here, to take care of this, and guess what; this Willow stepped up when no one else would. So I had to learn fast; so what? I needed the power to keep us safe. I don't regret it for a minute."

"And you did keep us safe," Tara said. "You were a hero. A-a-and they all know that."

"Dawn would never admit it," Willow huffed, but her eyes were darker than her relatively mild words. "She changed out there, you know Tara?"

"Yeah, she did," Tara said with a wistful smile. "And she grew up strong and proud. I'm happy for her. I just wish we talked more."

"Yeah," Willow said, finally calming down. Her face moved into its resolved expression. "But I don't know... she worries me baby. She has a power; you can feel it can't you?"

"Her aura," Tara began, pausing in consideration. "It was... green and blue and violet and gold. A lot of gold. I don't really know what it all means. It isn't like a normal person's aura; it moved differently."

Willow walked over to her nightstand and picked up her Book of Shadows, flipping through a few pages, then frowned and put the book down. "You know, I've been thinking. I was looking into some of the spells that could have made Dawn; you know her body and her memories and all that."

Tara looked frightened, but Willow wasn't looking at her, instead her gaze was fixed somewhere outside the room. She continued on. "The thing is, I looked and looked, but all of the spells I found, when you break them the illusion doesn't stay. Even if you just... break them a little. It's all or nothing, you see? But here's Dawn, with all these 'powers'. She says she remembers us, but sometimes I feel like she's something so different that it's terrifying. She scares me baby."

Inching over to Willow, Tara wrapped an arm around her. The two of them sat in a companionable silence for a few minutes before Willow shook herself back into focus. "All right, well, enough gloomy stuff for now. The program is running and soon our bad guys will be caught. But since we don't have anything to do until then..."

Tara giggled. The two of them tumbled into each others arms with a certainty of motion that indicated long practice. And the sex was good. It was always good, really, because it was Tara. But as they lay snuggled together, Willow couldn't keep it out of her mind. Dawn had threatened her; had threatened _Tara_ with that look, even if Tara hadn't noticed.

Nobody threatened Tara. The last thing that had, had ended up getting it's mind blasted apart by her magics. And Dawn, strong as she was, was no Hellgod. The last thing that Willow wanted to do was to hurt Dawn; but maybe... maybe there was another way?

Willow's incredible mind went into overdrive, and though she got very little sleep that night, she was satisfied. She had, in part, the beginning of a solution. Just in case Dawn ever tried to follow through on her threats. Not that she considered it likely; but like a good girl scout, Willow believed in being prepared.

0oooo0oooo0

"Welcome to the Dragon's Wing," Slade said expansively as Dawn ducked into the basement floor. There were already a surprising number of beings of all kinds here. Willow's kindly donated neutrality spell seemed to be holding. None of the vamps seemed to be eating anyone.

"I'm so glad to be here," Dawn said. Slade gave her an appraising look.

"You look quite fetching this evening," Slade said with a sly wink. "And who's your... my gods, is that you Fred? You look absolutely stunning."

Fred ducked her head slightly. Slade grinned and shook his head and his voice began to rise. "All right you two, go have fun. Dance the night away if you want. And drinks are on the house. Anything for my stunning fellow Senior Partner and her very lovely friend."

As he finished, just about everyone in the room was looking at them, most of the appraising, but more than a few with open lust. At least until Slade said the Senior Partner thing. Most of them then looked either terrified, or nodded as if their curiosity had been assuaged. Slade raised a beer stein and the rest of the bar followed suit in a toast.

Then they were dancing, Fred bouncing along with Dawn as they moved to the extremely eclectic beats. Music styles seemed to bounce all over the place, but Fred found herself flowing from one style to another with strange ease. She even had a rather sexy duet with Dawn when they started playing "Living Dead Girl". A popular song with the vampires apparently. It drew the attention of most of the club as she and Dawn moved in the center of the dance floor. Dawn's training allowed her to mesh with Fred's dancing to a degree that Fred had never seen before. When Rob Zombie finished his last droning chant and the two of them stood, panting and sweaty, they actually received a standing ovation from a dozen people.

Including three people that were very familiar. Fred caught Dawn's eye and jerked her head towards the bar. Dawn, flush from her dance, looked over and saw the three guys watching the two of them with extremely lustful eyes. They must have just gotten in, because she was fairly sure that they weren't there when she and Fred arrived. Her face went hard when she recognized them.

"You want to handle them now?" Dawn prompted. Fred nodded.

"Might not get a much better chance to get them by themselves," Fred asserted. "And they're on our turf; even if they don't know it."

Dawn gave Fred a nod of her own. She flounced slightly, leaning in towards Fred so close that it couldn't be anything other than intimate. Fred tensed slightly as Dawn hugged her, but relaxed when she heard Dawn's whisper in her ear.

"Drink first?" Dawn asked.

"And a phone call, I think," Fred replied with a hidden smile. "You have Buffy's cell number? Call her. I'll get some drinks and keep our 'friends' occupied."

"You sure about this?" Dawn prompted. She leaned back and looked uncertain. Fred smiled.

"They wouldn't be the first geeky guys I ever led along like cattle to the slaughter," Fred stated with an evil light in her eyes. "I was always the best looking winner of the chess competitions. I don't think these boys will be all that different by the look of it."

Dawn couldn't argue with that. These guys screamed 'nerd' all over. It must have taken a lot of cash waving to make it into this bar. Dawn gave her an evil grin and gently ran her had over Fred's chin. Fred could see the three boy's reaction to their faux intimacy. "All right beautiful. Now go stun those nerds for me. It'll only be for a second."

Putting just a little sway into her hips, Fred walked over to them. Tossing her hair just a little she leaned on the bar just a foot away from the one with blonde hair. She flagged down the bartender, an ugly little man, who gave her a nod. She looked over her shoulder at the blonde kid who was just staring at her like he couldn't believe his luck. She smiled at him.

"So handsome," she said. "You have a name?"

"Uh um," he stuttered. Just like trying to operate Windows software in an unorthodox manner, his brain seemed to be stuck on the 'blue screen of death'. It was cute watching them go into general protection fault. Ah, now he was rebooting. "Andrew. Andrew Wells."

"Well, Mr. Andrew, Andrew Wells," she said with a teasing smile, accentuating her twang just a little. "You want to buy a lady a drink?"

He nodded mutely. She looked at the bartender.

"A Manhattan please Willy," she said. The ugly little man nodded and went to work.

"So what's a nice fella like yourself doing in a place like this?" she asked, leaning forward onto the bar. "You look a little too... plaid to be a demon."

Andrew looked down at his open plaid shirt and blushed a little. "I honestly don't know that myself."

"Honest answer, I like that," she said. She reached up to idly twiddle a strand of hair around her finger. Andrew followed her every movement. God, this was too easy. "How about your friends over there?"

Andrew looked at his equally stunned teammates and back at Fred. "I don't think any of us know what's going on right now. We just came out to celebrate."

The taller brunette guy in the sport coat elbowed Andrew, looking slightly frantic, but Andrew shrugged it off. Ah the joy of disrupting male higher brain functions.

"Hm," she mumbled. She put an index finger to her lip. "Well my girlfriend and I might be in a mood to celebrate ourselves."

She let herself trail off, giving Andrew a suggestive look, then tossing her hair to take a sip of her newly arrived drink. Right about then she felt a pair of slender arms snake around her torso from behind. It took all of her will not to jump out of her skin as Dawn leaned forward and nibbled on her ear.

"Hello lover," Dawn said, just loud enough for the boys to hear. Poor Andrew. He was in complete shutdown. "I called our friends. I think they'll like your choice here."

She shot the boys a sultry look of her own, licking her lips like they were a particularly tasty looking ice cream cone. She leaned her head against Fred's back and smiled lazily. "How about it boys? You up for a little... action?"

Andrew and the one in the sport coat were nodding vigorously. The furthest away looked like something was bothering him a little, but he shrugged it off as Fred beckoned with an outstretched arm. The three of them trailed like puppies through the bar. Slade, relaxing near the entrance, smiled at them.

"You have fun you two," he said with that dragon's smile. Dawn reached over and hooked her finger under Fred's jawline.

"We always do," she said with a wink. Then the three of them were outside in the wide alleyway that the entrance to the club was set into. Dawn turned to the boys her sultry grin transforming into something completely different. In the clearer light of the outside, the one who'd seemed hesitant in the bar suddenly widened his eyes in realization.

It was far too late though. Dawn's arm stretched out, green light at her fingertips. A wave of force slammed into the boys, pinning them to the wall opposite the club. They struggled to move, but obviously couldn't. They stopped trying when Fred produced some kind of weapon from her handbag and was pointing it at them.

"That's eight times Earth standard gravity," Dawn observed in a casual way. "Much more and I might damage you permanently. So, you idiots obviously have no idea just how well connected we are in the community, do you? Well, I have to say I'm tempted to do something really unpleasant to you. You gave me a splitting headache that lasted for hours with that little stunt you pulled."

Dawn walked forward to where they were pinned and traced Warren's jaw with a finger. She hooked it, digging into his flesh with her nail. "I'm not much of one for torture or anything."

"But I am," Spike called out as he and Buffy materialized from the shadows. "Let me have them for a while pet. I'll make sure they never bother you again."

"Oh how charming Spike," Buffy said with a cold smile directed towards the helpless Trio. "You know just the way to a girl's heart."

"Dru always thought so," Spike replied with an offhanded smile. Dawn stepped back..

"No," Dawn said, holding out a hand to stall Spike's advance. "I don't think this bunch of winners would be worth the time of William the Bloody. I think we should just take them to the HQ and get anything useful out of them we can. Then we dump them somewhere no one will miss them. Maybe if they're good, we'll just drop them off with the cops."

"You wouldn't do that," Warren managed to grit out. He was looking defiant, but the other two were already caving. There was a whift sound and something shattered on the stone next to Warren's head. The wall began to dissolve a little. Everyone jumped at this. They turned to where Fred made a minute adjustment of the gun-like weapon she had in her hand.

"That was hydroflouric acid," she said conversationally. The Trio's eyes widened. "In a dense glass delivery system. I was wanting to try this one out. I don't know if the molar concentration would kill you honestly, but you would have scars for life, and you'd certainly be poisoned."

"Nice shot, but wasn't that a little harsh for a demonstration?" Buffy prompted. Fred turned to give her a surprisingly innocent expression.

"Well, it was less harsh than I planned," Fred replied with a shrug. "I missed. I was aiming for his face."

Something about the meek sounding physicist stating that she intended to shoot him in the face with such a potentially horrific weapon seemed to make Warren crack. He slumped as much as he was able in his current situation.

"All right," Warren said. "We'll go."

"Great," Buffy said. Dawn clenched her fist and the three rejects fell from where they were pinned in place. Buffy walked up to them with a definite swagger and she and Spike began to hustle them off. Dawn lagged behind and turned to Fred.

"Where did you learn to be that good of an actress?" Dawn whispered. Fred shrugged, but she had a sort of twisted smile.

"Pylea," she said. "You can't escape slavery if you aren't able to make them think you're harmless."

"I won't be making that mistake ever again," Dawn muttered. She gave Fred a sidelong glance as the two of them followed Buffy and Spike out of the alleyway. Fred just had a satisfied looking smile on her face.

0oooo0oooo0

It was with great pleasure that Buffy escorted the three drones who'd hurt her little sister through the New Hope Cemetery. They truly were pathetic, Buffy realized. She remembered Jonathan, remembered how smart he'd been. The fact that he'd been reduced to robbing banks was more pathetic than she was when she just got back. He could be a millionaire in Silicon Valley. Instead he was here.

Buffy was pulled out of her reverie and had just enough time to yelp when the frog men descended without warning. One moment there were none, then there were what seemed like a hundred. Both Spike and Buffy reacted with admirable speed. Spike's longsword took off the head of his first assailant with almost comical ease. Baring his fangs in a snarl, Spike danced, sending blood spraying everywhere.

Whirling around, Buffy created a zone of death around herself. Her heavy battle axe cut through at least half a dozen of the monsters before she realized they weren't even really trying to take her down. They were just trying to get past her.

She looked over to her charges and in a moment of Slayer intuition looked right at the strange amulet that Warren had been wearing around his neck on a leather thong. It was glowing from within with a... black light? It was the only thing that Buffy could think of to describe what she was looking at. Warren was freaking out as the first two monsters reached him. The first creature's tongue shot out and flicked across Warren's neck.

The wayward robotics expert twitched and fell heavily forward into the arms of another frog creature. He seemed to be completely unable to move. Even as Buffy watched, Warren's skin began shifting and changing into something else. Something decidedly frog like. She decided she didn't like that at all.

With a scream of rage and a strength that was greater that she thought she possessed, she smashed her way through the crowd of frog men to stand over Warren's fallen body with her axe swinging. She was lost in the blood lust for some time, she didn't even really know how long, until a steel like grip that was as cold as the fall night grabbed her shoulder.

"Slayer!" Spike roared. "There's too many. We need to fall back!"

She wanted to yell a retort of some kind, but even the Slayer within her knew that she was screwed if she stayed here much longer. She spared half a second to look over. It appeared that the other two nerds had somehow gotten clear and were making a run for it past the milling frogs. The creatures hadn't even noticed them. Buffy looked back at Spike.

"Jump now?" she asked. Spike nodded. Without thinking Buffy reached over and grabbed Spike's coat before focusing on as powerful a leap as she could manage. She nearly gasped in surprise when she went over three stories into the air, a flailing Spike dangling from one arm. They landed roughly, maybe twenty yards away, and tumbled onto the ground.

"Leap tall buildings in a single bound?" Spike coughed at her. Buffy shook her head, feeling like there was a buzzing behind her eyes.

"I don't know," she growled. "Just grab those two uber _losers_ and let's get clear. We need more firepower to clear this."

"A nuke would be nice," Spike muttered, but he got to his feet and sprinted after the two runners like the master vampire he truly was. Buffy looked over, her pounding head drawing her somehow to look over at an abandoned looking building in the distance. Some dim memory of the place was that it was a winery that had gone defunct sometime when she first came here. Since New Hope was the furthest she usually patrolled, she'd never been there herself, but right now she felt... something calling to her.

Filing that away in her already overtaxed brain, she watched as the frog men sprinted away into the night. She collapsed back on the ground even as Warren's flailing body faded further than her sight could track. There was really only one thought that came to her then.

It boiled down to how much she was beginning to share Willow's opinion about frogs.

0oooo0oooo0

"Are you alright?" Dawn asked after she, Mr. Wink, Slade, and Fred had materialized loaded for bear within a few feet of where Buffy and Spike were sitting. All of them were loaded for bear. Slade even had his new repeating crossbow. Five minutes was an admirable reaction time for just about any first responder, but way too late for them now.

"We're fine," Spike said, kicking the prone forms of the two kids in front of him and wincing a little. "Other than a slight headache from grabbing these two idiots. What were you thinking?"

"They were thinking that they could run from me," Dawn said without giving them a chance to answer. She leaned down and stabbed the ground in front of Jonathan. "Wrong fucking choice. Your buddy is probably frog food now. Maybe we should just hand you over to them too."

"Wait," Andrew whined. "We... we can help you."

"Really," Slade said, drawing out the syllables. "That so?"

"Yeah!" Jonathan added in some enthusiasm. He strained against the zip-cuffs that Spike had put on him for a second before subsiding a little. "I can do all kinds of-of ceremonial magic. You know, angels and demon binding things. That and-and I'm pretty good with computers."

Slade looked speculative, he turned to Andrew. Andrew shuddered. "Uh... well I'm kind of a demon summoner more than anything. I learned how to do it from my brother."

"Um, Tucken?" Buffy offered. Andrew shot her a scandalized look.

"Tucker Wells," Andrew said in a haughty voice. He squeaked like a mouse when Buffy glared at him and curled up. "Yes ma'am he was my brother."

"Have to say," Dawn mused. She pulled her spear out of the ground and holstered it. Pulling out a dagger from her belt she moved to stand over Andrew with a demon smile. "We're kind of set in the magic department. Now unless you have anything else to say we should just get on with..."

"Wait!" Jonathan blurted. Dawn stopped and gave him a curious look. "We-we can do robotics too. Like what Warren did. We're not as good but."

"Like I give a damn about robots," Dawn said dismissively. "You nearly get my sister killed and give me the headache of a lifetime. I should just decapitate you right here..."

"Stop," Fred said. Dawn did, looking over her shoulder. "May I?"

Dawn shrugged in an uncaring manner. Still dressed in her club clothes, with a pair of those strange air-pistols that fired acid capsules in her hands, Fred cut an incredible figure. She walked over and knelt down next to Jonathan's head. "You remember me lover boy?"

"Yes'm," Jonathan squeaked. Fred gave him a little smile.

"Okay, well I have me a few projects in the works that could use a little help," Fred stated. "Particularly of the robotics kind. Things that could really help people, and help this town. So, why don't we make us a deal huh?"

"Er..." Andrew said. Fred looked over at him.

"Or I could just let my boss kill you like she wants," Fred said calmly. Andrew went white. "Thought so. Here's the deal. You two work for me now, do what I tell you, don't screw around, and maybe Aurora'll let you work of your little debt here."

"You sure this project is worth this?" Dawn asked. Slade and Buffy were also looking skeptical.

"Pretty simple," Fred shrugged. "I need someone to help me reverse engineer something. These two can help if they can do what they say they can. Heck, we could probably even pay you for your trouble if this stuff works."

Andrew and Jonathan were looking up at Dawn with pleading expressions. Dawn's mouth quirked ever so slightly. She looked over at Mr. Wink who snapped her one of his namesakes. Turning away from the two pitiful geeks on the cemetery soil so that they couldn't see her no longer concealable grin she spoke out.

"All right," Dawn said. "Mr. Wink I think Spike and Buffy have had enough trouble for tonight. Would you escort our new 'employees' to the office please?"

Mr. Wink grunted and gave a single nod. The others got up and began to walk away when Dawn paused. As the rest of the Scoobies walked past her, she turned to shoot a horrible smile over her shoulder. "Oh, and Mr. Wink?"

The troll looked up.

"Don't eat them."

Andrew and Jonathan's whimpers were music to her ears.


	11. Chapter 10 The Jackals

Disclaimer: Hellboy is the property of Dark Horse Comics and Mike Mignola. Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel are both the property of Mutant Enemy and their affiliates. I own neither, and am writing this neither for commercial distribution nor profit. If they so require I will take this down whenever they ask. Original Characters are my property and may be used only with permission. Seriously folks, all you have to do is ask. I'm writing Fanfiction for crying out loud.

10. The Jackals

Xander Harris was awake. Next to him his fiancé slept peacefully. He looked down at her almost angelic face and smirked to himself. Boy was the reality different from the image. Still, he loved her, really loved her, and it confused the hell out of him. She was abrasive, loud mouthed, vicious. She was honest, strangely compassionate at times, and let's face it, a demon in the sack. What a bundle. But he still was kicking himself over all the things he never really did tell her.

Like when the moon was dark, how he could barely restrain the urge to prowl around town. One night a month, the new moon, he was a complete insomniac. Of course, hardly anyone noticed. They did so much at night it was hardly ever an issue. Plus he wasn't the only one who never slept. Plenty of others couldn't because of the nightmares or the demons. For him it was because on that night, Africa would sing in his blood. And that scared him so much that he hadn't ever told _anyone_ about it. He hardly admitted it to himself, unless he couldn't deny it.

Like tonight.

He got out of bed, careful not to wake Anya. Of course she slept like the dead, so that wasn't terribly hard. Quietly he put on his clothes and went to retrieve the box that he got out on Saturdays; the one that the Scoobies other than Anya had no idea he owned. Walking into the kitchen, he started the coffee maker and sat down at their little table. Opening the box he carefully inspected the contents.

He slid his nine millimeter pistol out, and in a series of quick motions ejected the magazine, removed the slide and slid the barrel apart. Taking out a rag and oil, he carefully cleaned the weapon, his meticulous care helping to soothe the part of his mind that just wanted to run around rutting and fighting with everything that wouldn't bend knee to him.

In this town it meant he would probably get into a fight with over half the population; and most of it was a lot scarier than he was.

Finishing with the first pistol he set it aside, working through his quite illegal sawed off shotgun and onto his other nine millimeter. Finally he packed everything up into the box and walked out onto their little landing to watch the sun crest the horizon. It was time for his Saturday morning ritual, after all.

0oooo0oooo0

Xander parked his pickup where he usually did on Saturdays, and walked onto the range. The other regulars knew him now. He'd been coming here for almost two years now, after all. He had his habits too. Walking down range he fixed his targets at three different ranges, one at the very edge of his pistol's effective distance, and walked back to the line.

He waited for the all clear with his eyes closed, one pistol laying on the table in front of him and one in a shoulder holster under his jacket. The all clear sounded and Xander's eyes snapped open. He swept the automatic on the table into his hand and settled into a textbook perfect Weaver stance. The barrel came up. Sharp reports, one after another, as he fired and allowed the barrel to settle before firing again, as fast as was truly possible with any prayer of hitting anything.

The second the receiver clicked on empty, he dropped the weapon to the table and drew his other pistol, barely breaking his pace. Again, the pistol sang in his hands. Thirty seconds and thirty two rounds later Xander settled himself, placing the second weapon down with care and waiting patiently.

Joe Cain, the owner of the Sunnydale Firing Range walked over and sat down next to Xander while they waited. Xander shot him a look and Joe smiled at him.

"You shoot fast son," Joe said. Xander shrugged.

"I figure I won't have time to buff my nails if something bad happens."

"Well that's God's honest truth," Joe said. They waited in silence for the others to finish. Finally the all clear sounded again and Joe followed Xander out.

His groupings were tight. Incredibly tight, by and large. Most of them were less than half an inch apart, and all of them were in the target zones. All three paper targets looked alike as Xander took out a black marker and circled various things on the concentric rings.

"That's some aim you have there," Joe said. Xander nodded, his eyes distant, remembering another man. Who fought in a jungle hell and learned how to fight the hard way; the sneaky way. A man whose memories Xander had stolen what seemed like a lifetime ago.

"It's what keeps your family alive and safe," Xander replied. "And the other guy dead."

Joe nodded, and the two of them walked back to the line again. Xander pulled out two fresh magazines and locked them into place, one after another. He looked over when Joe cleared his throat.

"You ever think about teaching that?" Joe asked. "I know a few cops that could stand to learn how to shoot the way you do."

"In Sunnydale?" Xander asked, racking the slide of his pistol. "Who'd believe it?"

Joe laughed. "True. But still, you could make some money on the side, and we need someone to teach the pistol safety course out here."

"I'm afraid I'm going to have to decline," Xander said. "Family doesn't really want me out here like this. Something like that would really get to them."

"Son," Joe said after a moment of silence. "I love my family, but you... you have a gift. And sometimes family ain't always right. You think on that, eh?"

Xander nodded, tucking his spare pistol into the box and the other into his shoulder holster. "I can't promise I will; I'm not much for thinking most days frankly. But I'll leave that for another day. Right now I've got to go; have a date with a pretty lady."

Joe watched Xander walk away and shook his head. Some folks just didn't even want to help themselves. Maybe there was a balance to it, Joe mused. Maybe for every man like Harris, there was someone else out there who went for everything, accepted who he was and his talents. Joe wondered what a man like that would look like.

0oooo0oooo0

The bar was a sleazy roadhouse. Most of the inhabitants of Sunnydale knew full well that the "Pig Roaster" was a place you steered clear of if you valued keeping your hide intact. Or if you were interested in some of the various recreational pharmaceuticals that were available, you made your buy and then you booked.

Fast.

Still, the place managed to be full of raucous bikers on that Friday night. Most of them were harmless, but a few of them were very much 'upstanding' members of the local Hell's Angels, which included far more actual angels from Hell than most could boast. Still, even the hardest of these customers weren't bothering the white haired man and his beautiful pale companion with her short ponytail.

Perhaps it was the way the white haired man openly wore an archaic Winchester slung over his back or the strange necklaces that the woman had around her neck. Maybe it was the obvious scars that both of them sported, not so much marring their unusually fit bodies so much as accentuating them; much the way that the bikers in the smoky bar sported tattoos that were a poor imitation of the real deal.

Ezekiel picked up his beer mug and looked at the contents dubiously. "Sarah, I do love you, but why on God's green earth did you pick this particular establishment for this meetin'?"

"Because no one will ever want to remember us here," Sarah said with a smile. She patted Ezekiel's hand. "And because our lovely contacts said this was a good place to meet them."

"What're they, wild dogs?" Ezekiel groused. A bar fight was moving towards them, a tussle that would have quickly smashed into their table if Ezekiel hadn't intercepted one of the thug's jaw with his outstretched fist.

"More than you might think," Sarah said. She narrowed her eyes. "They're young, but watch them. They're not fully... human."

"Hm," Ezekiel said, but made no further comment. He didn't have much longer to wait when the doors of the bar were smashed open and four very lean and scary looking people walked in. They were a motley bunch, two men, two women. Brunette and blonde of each one. There was something about them though; something that marked them with a sameness that their gaudy biker look couldn't achieve. They moved together.

Like a pack, Ezekiel realized. But there was something else. The brunette male and female exchanged a look, and they pushed their way through the crowd. One very large biker got in the way of the brunette girl. She couldn't have weighed over 140, and her pixie haircut and hawkish face made her look even more delicate than she actually was. She didn't even break stride towards the table, just backhanded him. The biker flew a good three feet and landed on one of the makeshift tables, crushing it.

Several of the guy's friends looked like they might try something, until the rest of the group were behind them. They growled a little, and the would be fight simply dissipated. The brunette girl and boy sat down. The blondes watched the crowd with their predator's eyes.

"You Ezekiel?" the girl asked. Ezekiel smiled thinly.

"I might be called that," he said. "You are the Jackals."

"Very good," the man said clapping. "Kyle DuFours, and this lovely lady is Rhonda Kelley."

"And I'm Sarah," Sarah said pointedly. She took out a photograph and slid it across the table. "And this here is the mark. Goes by the name Dawn Summers."

"Summers," Kyle said thoughtfully. "Hm. Couldn't be. She was an only child. All right, what's the order?"

"Straight old fashioned kidnapping," Ezekiel said. "Now the girl must be brought in alive. Tranqs only. No live ammo. If she dies, I kill _you_. Understood?"

"Crystal clear," Rhonda said. She looked over at the rest. "We ride out tonight, make the hit, and deliver her to you at this address right?"

"Exactly that," Sarah said. She took out a duffel bag and smiled, putting it on the table. "This is your 25 upfront. Enjoy."

Kyle snatched it up with a smile and slung it over his shoulder. "Oh we will. Alright guys, looks like we're going home for real. Gosh it'll be great to see the old 'alma mater'."

The strange cackling laughter of all four of them made even Ezekiel's hair stand on end a little. Sarah had a troubled expression but she shook her head.

"If they're as good as their rep, this will go off without a hitch," Sarah said.

"Unless something awkward happens," Ezekiel added. He gave Sarah a look and for a long moment their eyes were locked. Both of them spoke together in stereo.

"... And we're on the Hellmouth."

0oooo0oooo0

"...and one for the Dawn-patrol," Xander said, handing a sandwich over to Dawn. They were sitting on a park bench under the weakening noonday sun of the early October sky. The two of them were having lunch, as had become their habit, on Saturdays. Xander did it to get away from Anya for a bit; he loved her but she could be clingy as hell when she was in the mood. That and she kept bugging him about the engagement announcement. It was nice to get away for a little.

Dawn, well Xander wasn't entirely sure why she came, but he thought that she needed time to herself too. After all, she was a sixteen year old girl who headed up a company that now had seven employees and was without any previous experience. Though Slade and Buffy did a lot of the work too, she was the one who made the lion's share of the actual 'directing' decisions. Slade was happy to follow and Buffy... well, Xander knew deep down that Buffy hadn't been quite right since she came back.

He kept hoping that she'd change back to the, well not exactly fun loving Buffy of the past few years, but a reasonable facsimile. But she wasn't. He knew it in his bones. She was different; and he honestly wondered if she really did hate them for bringing her back. So that left them here, in the park. Dawn picked up her sandwich and looked at it much the way a lion would a gazelle. She took a huge bite out of it and grinned.

"Thanks Xander," she said. "Nummy as always."

"I am a man of many talents," Xander said, leaning back with his arms crossed behind his head, looking smug and superior. Dawn laughed.

"I bet," she said after swallowing.

"So, how's life as the big evil corporate boss lady?" Xander asked, adjusting his Carheart jacket to ease up on his shoulder holster.

"Evil and corporate," Dawn shrugged. "Mostly paperwork. Buffy did a surprisingly good job guarding that guy from Dubai last week. He was heading towards pissed, I think because of Buffy's 'unique' attitude, until a bunch of Frey-Lyn demons jumped him. Boy did that change his opinion in a hurry. If he's ever back in the area, he's going to request her by name."

"Aah Buffy," Xander said wistfully. "Bringing diplomacy and harmony wherever she goes."

Dawn pulled a face at that and took another bite of her sandwich. She was leaning over when Xander spotted it. He didn't even have time to register what 'it' was. He simply reached out and jerked Dawn's shoulder to the left. She squawked at him in indignation, but Xander simply pointed down. A long dart was buried where her back had been, deep into the wood of the park bench.

Dawn was just working through her shock; Xander though, had reached behind himself and pulled out his automatic pistol, and brought it around. With a snarl he pulled the trigger once. There was a shout of outrage and then there was silence. Dawn turned around to look at the utterly shocked face of a young blonde girl looking down at a rifle laying on the ground. Dawn could see the ding on its barrel from where Xander's bullet had hit.

"Weapons, now," Xander gestured with his free hand to the ground.

All four of them acquiesced. Xander smiled thinly.

"Good, now all four of you come over here together."

She frowned, and flicked her eyes to the side. She'd regained enough awareness after Warren Mears' 'stunt' that she could at least feel within a hundred yards or so now. There was no risk of surprise. But it was Xander's hard eyed expression that drew her attention the most.

"Howdy," Xander said as all four of them pulled to a stop, their arms raised. "I'd ask how you're doing, I mean you seem to be a little better; but I don't know if shooting girls with tranquilizer darts is a step up on cannibalism. Why don't you tell me?"

"We're sorry Harris," the brunette girl sounded truly apologetic. "We didn't know she was yours, or we never would have taken the job. Honest boss."

She did something slightly odd then, moving her head to the side a little and then back. Xander relaxed just a tad. "She's one of my girls, yeah. So, why don't we play the question game? Starting with this one; why were you going to tranq her?"

"Job," the male responded this time.

"So you're mercs now?" Xander asked. The blonde guy snorted.

"What were we gonna do Harris? Become rocket scientists? Work for the normal military? That ain't our way and you _know_ it."

Dawn watched a number of alien expressions cross Xander's face. It finally settled in an unusually intense glare.

"Yeah," Xander said quietly. "I know. Who sanctioned this one? Who's the front man?"

"I..." the blonde trailed off. Xander smiled slowly.

"You remember who I am right?" Xander said. Dawn noticed something... strange. Xander's stance had changed, his entire demeanor. He was like... Riley, she realized. The snaps that she had seen, the moments of professionalism; he was a soldier. Somewhere deep inside her mind she was kicking herself. How the hell had she missed _this_? I mean suspicions were one thing, but that pistol shot had been... almost impossible. You only saw things like that in movies.

"We remember," the blonde replied. "We remember."

"Good," Xander said, narrowing his eyes. "Who? Now."

"Some guy named Ezekiel," the blonde crumbled. "But honest, it was..."

"I understand, even if I'm not happy," Xander said, holding up a hand. "But this isn't the way we do things here folks. You don't want to be the guys responsible for changing the rules, do you?"

"No sir," the blonde said. "I... we didn't mean any disrespect."

Dawn stood up and glared at the four around her. "You taking the contract then?"

"No ma'am," the blonde girl said, still rubbing her arm from where her own rifle had hit her. "We'll give them back the money, walk away."

"Good," Dawn said. "All right you four. Come with us. I think we have some things to talk about."

She kept her eyes on Xander as she spoke, and Xander flinched away from her sight, but nodded. Picking up their weapons and slinging them, the four mercenaries walked in front of Dawn and Xander. It was a long and very quiet walk.

0oooo0oooo0

"I... I still don't believe it," Andrew whispered, looking at the 3S R&D and fabrication room. "This... I didn't even know there was anything like this in Sunnydale. It's so beautiful, like Reed Richards' lab brought to life!"

"I can only hope," Fred commented with a small grin. She looked over at Jonathan who was still speechless. "How about you?"

"Lady, I'll work for you for food alone to get a chance to work with things like this," Jonathan said finally. "I... this is like what we were dreaming of. And we don't even have to rob a bank."

"That's the hope," Fred shook her head. " 'cause if you ever do that again, I figure Aurora really will do something horrible to you."

Both of them looked quite nervous, but they nodded. Fred laughed once, shaking her head. She walked over to her bench and pulled out some of the sketches that she'd done, along with a few technical components blown up and further detailed. She handed the blueprints over to Jonathan, Andrew hovering over Jonathan's shoulder.

"So boys," she said. "What do you think?"

"I... this is incredible!" Jonathan said, looking over the blueprints that Fred had handed him. "This... this is like the holy grail of sci-fi combat! And... it's only a little way away from being finished."

"Holy Heinlein," Andrew whispered. He looked over at Fred. "You modified this from one of Warren's robo-girlfriends, didn't you?"

"How'd you know?" she asked. Andrew giggled self consciously.

"I was the only other person who helped him make the cores," Andrew explained. He looked suddenly thoughtful and turned to Jonathan. "But I never thought of using it like this. I feel like an idiot."

"Well the last bit is always the hardest," Fred stated, leaning against a bench in her white lab coat and her arms crossed under her chest. However, her smile was genuine and sweet at the two boys' awed expressions. "I need help workin' on the articulation. It just isn't functioning right and I don't know enough engineering to make it do what I want."

"This will be easy," Jonathan said after a moment of consideration. He shot Fred a look. "We've already done this before, it's just a larger scale."

"Then why don't you two show me what you can do?" Fred smiled. She gestured to the parts on the workbench. The two looked at each other, then at the bench. Then they sat down and started working.

Fred was startled by a slamming door. She stood up straighter and reached a hand inside her coat. She relaxed when Tara stuck her head inside. They'd hired her on as a receptionist for half the week. Fred had gotten to like her over the last few days. Both of them were shy, but there was a kind of solidity to Tara that Fred found comforting. She was probably the sanest person other than Aurora around. Though she could admit that she was not in the most objective position.

"W-we have a problem," Tara said. Fred blinked.

"What kind of problem?"

"Dawnie's a bit angry right now. She just came in with a bunch of guys wearing weapons and dumped them in the conference room. Should I call Slade?"

"I think that'd be best," Fred stated after a second. She looked at Tara. "Shotgun?"

"N-no thanks," Tara said, holding her hands out. Fred shrugged and walked over to a nearby cabinet. She punched in a series of numbers on a keypad set into the solid door. It popped open with a hiss and Fred hoisted a twelve gauge out of it.

"Fine," Fred acknowledged. She rocked the slide, catching the round that flew out of the ejector with a nod. With an ominous click she reloaded the round into the weapon. The sound was awfully loud in the very quiet laboratory. "Your loss. But me? I'm a fan of being prepared."

0oooo0oooo0

Dawn walked into her office, Xander trailing behind her. She shut the door as he passed through and turned to face him.

"Okay," Dawn said in a level voice. "Honesty time. What was that?"

Xander fidgeted, and opened his mouth, but Dawn raised her hand.

"See this?" she stated, making a dark expression. Xander nodded. "Good. This is my 'I don't want bullshit from Xander' face. Like the resolve face, but with an extra dose of 'what the hell?'. Now, I know this isn't just a simple one time thing. You slip up too much Xander. Truth. Please?"

"I don't like the truth," Xander said, uncharacteristically quiet. Dawn shook her head.

"Neither did I, but I had to face it anyway," she replied. "Xander, I love you like a brother. Please don't do this to me too. One sister who won't talk to you is bad enough."

Xander smiled a little, but it faded as his eyes became almost blank looking. Dawn felt a chill go down her spine. The real Xander, stripped of that mask he wore, stared out at her. And what was underneath was almost terrifying. "Fine. So you know how in our sophomore year I was possessed by the Hyena spirit?"

"I remember something about it, yeah?" Dawn stated. Xander nodded.

"Those four guys," Xander said, pointing down. "Were the others. They... they ate Principal Flutie Dawn. They managed to get the spirits off of us, but... it doesn't just leave you."

"I thought you couldn't remember it," Dawn said slowly. Xander shook his head.

"I remember everything Dawnie," Xander said. "And somewhere it's still in there. Africa... you know? It's a part of me. A part of them now. Back then I was their alpha, you see? I was the head man, the boss."

"What about the guns?" Dawn asked. Realization hit her hard and she collapsed back into her chair, looking at the desktop. "The soldier thing; it stuck too didn't it?"

"Yeah, it did," Xander said. Dawn looked up and there were tears in her eyes. Her voice was hoarse. A single word, full of pain and understanding.

"Why?"

"Because they didn't want it to be true," Xander said with a sad smile of his own. "Because they wanted me to have a normal life, and they wanted to keep me safe. Because Buffy wouldn't get it, you know? She's all 'I'm save the world chick, stay out of my way'"

"Yeah," Dawn said, feeling completely exhausted. "I do. God."

She got out of her chair and walked around her desk to hug him tight. He returned the hug. "How much of your ability have you been hiding?"

"A bit," Xander said. "But less than you might think. The thing is, I'm better with guns; Buffy didn't want anything to do with them. I went to the range every morning for the last two years. Had to keep in practice, it's sticking just fine. I'm stronger than most guys, you notice I look pretty buff?"

"Yeah," Dawn smirked.

"Never worked out a day in my life," Xander said. "It's all Hyena. I heal and move faster too; it's the only way I can even hope to keep up with her. Even then, it's so small a difference that next to Willow or Buffy you'd never notice."

"The soldier's memories... who was he?" she asked. Xander shut his eyes.

"His name was John Lucas," Xander said. "And he died in Vietnam. He was a hell of a soldier. Died saving his platoon. A hero."

"You know that I still love you Xander," Dawn said. She looked up at him, relaxing her hug. "But I want you to stop this. Stop hiding things from us; from me. Please. I... look I'll tell you this. I'm afraid okay? I like Slade a lot, but there's a lot of things I don't know about him. Buffy is being stupid like she always is. And Willow..."

Xander's head snapped around as she trailed off. She frowned in thought.

"I'm worried about her Xander," she said finally. She looked over at him. "This magic, it scares me when it's in her hands. I'm scared enough of myself, and I spent a whole year honing this as best I could. You're the only person I know I can trust Xander. So don't you ever lie to me, okay? I love you, no matter who you are, and I'm proud of you."

Xander said nothing, but looked thoughtful. Dawn's frown slid into a look of resolve.

"You're still their alpha, aren't you?"

"Yeah," Xander said. Dawn looked up.

"How would you like to be someone working for us part time? If these guys will just follow you, then maybe we can make this a real advantage..."

"You don't know what you're asking me to do," Xander said, catching on instantly. Dawn smirked to herself. He really did have the soldier buried down there. "I..."

"Look, you're lying to my sister, lying to your best friend, lying to your girlfriend. Please just stop. If they can't accept you for who you are, then please let the rest of us. I mean, Slade would be thrilled. I figure Anya would too."

"I don't think you understand," Xander said. "I don't want to be a killer Dawn, and if I..."

"What?" Dawn cut him off. Her eyes blazed. "Do you think I want to be a killer? Huh? Do you think that I actually _enjoy _all this? I killed Ben, for God's sake Xander. I snapped the neck of an innocent man; I did something Buffy couldn't do. As a fifteen year old. So don't you _dare_ preach at me about being a killer."

Xander flinched and looked aside. There was silence for a moment, and then Xander looked back at her. However, there was a flicker of something behind his eyes. There was determination there and for the first time in a while, Xander looked a little more steady and a little less torn.

"If I open myself to this though, I may... I know who I am Dawn," he said in measured tones. "If I... If I start to go bad, please."

"I know you too Xander," Dawn said, walking forward. "And I know what you are inside; you show it every day when you help us, fight to keep us safe. And I am not afraid of you. Neither is Anya; come to think of it, I'm not sure she's actually truly afraid of anything."

"Other than bunnies," Xander laughed and looked a little thoughtful as Dawn trailed off.

She raised her voice again. "But if you do go bad? Then I'll do it myself."

"You promise?"

"I promise."

0oooo0oooo0

Dawn and Xander walked down the stairs to see a slightly nervous looking Tara standing there. She was shifting from foot to foot, but relaxed a little when Dawn smiled at her.

"I couldn't get Slade, I don't know how to reach him if he doesn't have his cell," Tara said. Dawn shook her head from side to side.

"I don't think we'll need it," Dawn replied, but she gave Tara a thankful nod. "Thanks for trying though. Where are our guests at the moment?"

"Still where they were," Tara said. Dawn nodded.

"Thanks," she said. She motioned to Xander. "Come on. Chat time."

The two of them pushed the doors aside and walked into the downstairs conference room. She looked at the group and frowned.

"You guys have a name?" she asked. The blonde guy, Tor Hauer according to Xander, smirked at her.

"We're the Jackals, girl," Tor replied with a lazy roll of his head.

"Like good old Carlos, has a nice ring; for a bunch of hired guns," Dawn mused. Suddenly her hair flared into white light and her eyes glowed at them. "And my name isn't girl, animal, it's Aurora. Remember it."

The four of them inched away from her, looking extremely uncomfortable. Dawn let the light fade away and her frowned deepened. "Now, I understand you guys work for money right?"

"Yeah," Tor replied slowly. Dawn nodded.

"Fine," she said. "I have a negotiation for you then. I want to hire you, if only to keep you out of our hair."

"I don't think you can afford us," Tor replied. Dawn shrugged.

"Maybe, but not every form of payment is money. Tell me, when was the last time you guys actually lived in one place? Had a home for more than a few nights huh?"

The four of them started shifting nervously. Dawn smirked. "I think you'd like to have a territory, wouldn't you? We have one right here, and it's infested with things that need to die. Sounds like your kind of work."

She noticed all four were paying much closer attention now. She leaned forward and planted her hands on the table. "How about this? I get you legit security jobs; here and L.A. mostly, and you get a home base; a place where people won't just take your heads or stab you in the back. Downside? You do what he tells you to."

She pointed at Xander. It was very strange to see the look of hopefulness on the faces of his former pack. Xander took a deep breath and stepped forward.

"That's right," Xander said. "You work for me. I'm the boss now."

"You always were," Tor said, bowing his head a little. Dawn sighed a little and turned to walk out. She paused at the door, looking over her shoulder.

"Xander, you know what you have to do," she said. "Now, I've got some other things to take care of now. Let me know what you decide, and we'll work it out."

Not for the first time, Dawn wondered if other CEO's has to fly as much by the seat of their pants as she did. Because if they did, her respect for Corporate America would be taking a massive upswing.

0oooo0oooo0

The dark echoed with sounds of dripping water wearing away the limestone that capped the surface of the Hellmouth. The being that called itself Winston Slade knelt at the base of an ancient statue. One buried for millennia. The Temple of Ngg-Thsathq-hem.

The temple of his father.

He remembered when you could still see the sky and sea from here. His father had always loved the skies and sun. Ngg-Thsathq-hem had spent its days flying in the skies. The temple had once been constructed like the grasping arms of the Ogdru Hem itself, clawing at the vault of the heavens. Now, however, there was no one left to sing the old songs. No one left to hear the rush of the winds and the power of the Uncaring Sun. Ngg-Thasthq-hem was interred in a floating prison-coffin within the Deeper Well and none of his children remained to call to the heavens.

It had taken him a month to find it in the labyrinth of Hellmouth. Buried by the foes of his father, long ago. Perhaps Illyr-na-hem had done it. She was vengeful, and ruled the lands with a clawed fist the size of a mountain. Others had corrupted it, followers of the Fallen One, the greatest other than Anum- Lucifer Morningstar. It disgusted him to see his racial foes having desecrated this place.

"I am sorry," he said to the statue of his father. His hissing speech would be indecipherable by all but Aurora. "I failed you all. I am all that remains."

The whispered echoes twisted back on him, and his ears heard something other than his reflected words. He narrowed his eyes and looked up.

"I swear to you," he said quietly. "She will never reign over your world. They will stop her Ascension. It has been foretold that she would walk free from her prison. When she does I will be there."

The angry echoes seemed satisfied with this, subsiding. Slade stood up when a glint caught his eyes. Wonder filled him as he strode forward, brushing dust aside from the base of his father's statue. He began to frantically dig, his hands shoveling sand aside as quickly as possible. He stepped back when it was revealed, a slight tear in his aged eyes.

Laid before him was the raiment of his father's champion. The bronzed armor glinted in the half light cast by the flames that sputtered around Slade's hands. He knelt slowly, gathering it up in his arms. His smile grew broader, his jagged teeth revealed in their inhuman glory. Leaning his head back, he closed his eyes.

"Thank you," he whispered. "I will do what is necessary- they will be protected."

The light that was cast upon the statue of a long dead alien god faded as Slade left the temple. The life that the dragon had brought left with him. The temple once again was quiet, empty, and still. Until the day that the Black Sorceress would raise it to destroy the world. But until Hecate, iron of skin, dark of power, and oh so human of heart called upon the temple, it would rest.

0oooo0oooo0

Xander was sitting still, looking at the far wall of Mr. Wink's training circle. Across from him were the Jackals. His Jackals, potentially. Now all he had to do was prove it the old way; a no shirt, no shoes good old fashioned knife fight. He flexed his shoulder around, loosening himself up for this, and allowing the memories of another man that he kept so far away to surface.

But, as they say, first things first. The imposing Mr. Wink stood with his arms crossed in the center of the circle. Keeping the peace until the fight. Then, the thing that Xander was waiting for happened. A beautiful heart shaped face and a fall of blonde hair that he knew so well now came around the corner.

"Xander?" Anya asked. She gave the Jackals a sidelong glance. "Who're they? And not that I mind but why aren't you wearing a shirt? Is this some strange male Californian thing?"

"They're why I called you," he said. He looked down at his fists and clenched them. "I... I've been hiding some things from you. And I'm not happy about it, but I'm tired of hiding it."

He went on to explain how the Hyena still sang in his blood when the moon was dark, and how the soldiers memories kept threatening to overwhelm his own. She seemed to accept this; in fact she seemed like she was able to make sense of a lot of the past few years when he explained it all. She only had one real request.

"Next time you go to the range, take me huh."

"What?" Xander asked. She gave him a wolfish smile.

"I like shooting things, sure it's primitive, but it's great stress relief."

Of course the magics weren't really the tough one. Then he got to the hardest part of all.

"I... I know where I'm coming from Anya," he said after a moment. "I'm afraid. I... somewhere in me is this animal, the shell shocked soldier, and..."

Anya, who had been uncharacteristically quiet overall for the past fifteen minutes, spoke up with a raised eyebrow. "Anthony Harris?"

Xander stopped. He turned to look at her with an expression of shock. Anya gave an exasperated sigh.

"Look, Xander," she said in irritation. "You think I haven't seen this before? I've lived a thousand years. Your daddy issues aren't anything new to me. Geeze, what kinds of men do you think ended up causing all those problems I used to avenge huh?"

"Alright," she said, shaking her head at Xander, who still appeared to be in shock. She knelt down next to him and pulled his face close to hers. "Xander, I was a demon for years. I've seen evil. I've seen more evil than you'd ever want to see. But you know what? In all those years I've never met another guy who's braver or had done more _genuine_ good in this world. Hyena spirits, soldier's ghosts, drunken louts of fathers, I don't care. I know who you are Xander. And I'm not afraid of you. I love you, you idiot."

And she kissed him. In a way that left absolutely no doubt what she felt for him. She leaned back. "You're a better man than him. If you turned into Darth Vader tomorrow, you'd _still_ be a better man than him."

"Then... then I want you to do something for me," Xander said. He reached into her pocket, where he knew she kept it. He opened the box and slid the ring onto her finger. "Wear this."

The look on her face was priceless. Any other woman would have cried. Anya wasn't most women. Her grin was almost Slade-like in it's broadness, and her eyes flashed with the fury that was always a few inches from the surface. She leaned in again and kissed him with a fierce heat.

Backing off she turned to look at the wary forms of the Jackals standing there and smiled. And there was something in that smile that carried across the power of a Greater Demon that had once rested within her. She raised her hand and waved at them cheerfully, prominently displaying her ring. "Hey there guys! Meet the new Alpha Bitch. Now Xander, get your lazy butt up here and show these puppies what you can do."

0oooo0oooo0

"That's a cool suit of armor," Dawn observed. She was sitting with her legs crossed on top of Slade's desk. His own office was the smallest of the three by a significant margin. However, his walls were already filling with various weapons and artifacts. Some Dawn knew. Others, like the bronze armor Slade was now polishing meticulously, were completely foreign.

It was a beautiful piece. An articulated breastplate made of something that looked like bronze, it was covered in carvings and reliefs. Coiling serpents and dragons' faces created the impression of pauldrons. The gauntlets were almost like paws of a great beast, sweeping back away from the wrist.

"It is that," Slade replied with a mysterious smile. He maneuvered the gauntlet to the side and did something. A two foot blade sprang from it, causing Dawn to jump back slightly. Her eyes were wide as she looked at the glittering edge of the forearm sword.

"Where did you get it?" Dawn asked, mystified. "It isn't like anything I've ever seen."

"It belonged to the champion of the City of the Dragons," Slade said quietly.

Dawn's eyes widened, and Slade put the gauntlet gently on his broad oak desk. He looked up into her eyes, dancing with a thousand questions. He smiled just a little more and spoke.

"This was not always a Hellmouth," Slade said. "And humans do not hold the monopoly upon hubris. The Ars Draconis were just as arrogant, and it cost them. Now all that's left is me and this armor."

"I'm sorry," Dawn said, looking away.

"It isn't your fault," Slade said. His voice was raspy, and very tired. "If anything, you saved us all. But that is a story for another time I think. Where's Xander? Don't you usually spend your Saturday nights with him and Fred at the bar?"

"He ran into some old High School friends," Dawn shrugged. "We're trying to strike a deal with them. They seem like they could be good contractors. And Fred is busy breaking in the newbies. Emphasis on breaking. But she's such a sweetie that they'll be fine. I think now they're halfway between terror and goddess worship. She's like their dream woman – Seven of Nine or something. And this project has Andrew and Jonathan really excited. Apparently she really was working on something revolutionary."

"Fred is a genius," Slade said. He lifted the breastplate to hang it on a peg set into the wall. "It was said by some that the humans are pathetic. But I have come to believe that they are far more powerful and even worthy than the First Ones ever gave them credit for. Never in my life have I encountered minds like that of Fred or Willow. Their genius is inherently human; and those who scoff at it will pay for it."

Slade smiled grimly into the now gleaming surface of his armor. "And I want to be the one to collect on their misfortune."

"You know you never told me why you decided to help me," Dawn said. Slade lowered his head.

"Because I know who you are Aurora," Slade said after a long silence. "And I can see what you would become."

"And what is that?" Dawn asked, intrigued. Slade turned around slowly.

"Something this world hasn't seen in a very long time," Slade replied. His face became completely expressionless as he looked into her eyes. "Hope."

Dawn blinked. "But why... the Key?"

"No," Slade said with a shake of his head and a grin. "Not the Key. Maybe one day you'll see it for yourself. But I can't make you understand, can't even really explain it unless you have the context to understand it."

Their conversation was interrupted by a breathless looking Jonathan opening Slade's office door. Both of the Senior Partners looked over at him with some surprise.

"Xander," Jonathan wheezed. "He's in a fight with them or something down in the ring."

"It isn't a spar?" Dawn asked. Jonathan shook his head.

"No, too many knives and too much blood for that," Jonathan said. Dawn cursed as Slade gave her a questioning look.

"Tell you later," Dawn said. They rippled and phased into Mr. Wink's room. Drawing her spear from her coat, extending it, even as Slade curled his fists and the two of them ran into the room.

The scene they came upon was pretty hard to decipher. Xander was standing inside the circle, knife in his hand, blade down. Opposite him, Tor circled around, his fangs bared. The other three Jackals were on the ground, propped against a bench. They were covered in cuts, but they were watching the fight with tremendous attention. To Dawn's surprise, she saw Anya leaning against the wall closest to Xander, directly opposite the Jackals with a decidedly predatory look on her heart shaped face.

Dawn picked her way over, not wanting to interrupt, but she looked on in wariness. "What's the hell is this?"

Xander and Tor were just staring at each other. Anya, turned her demon smile on Dawn. "My man is proving that he's the biggest of them all. Not that that's gonna be hard. I've seen a lot of men over the years, and I have to say that he's one of the most well en..."

"Enough!" Dawn nearly shouted. Not that it seemed to matter to the two combatants. "How many times do I have to say it? No. More. Xander. Sex. Analogies."

"Well anyway," Anya said breezily. She waved her hand in a dismissive gesture. "He's proving that he's still Alpha. So far so good. Plus it will be nice to have minions."

"Is that what I think it is," Dawn interjected, looking at the ring on Anya's finger. Anya didn't do anything but smile further. Dawn's smile was quickly growing to match hers. "Then congratulations."

"What?" Slade asked in confusion. Dawn had almost missed his approach he was being so quiet. She turned towards her fellow Senior Partner.

"The ring symbolizes intent to marry," Dawn explained. Slade shook his head in exasperation.

"Not that," he muttered. "I know what an engagement ring is. I meant that comment about minions."

"Simple really," Anya sighed. "Xander beats the last of them and then I'll be the Alpha female of course. I could use someone to do the heavy lifting. It'll be fun."

Xander and Tor were moving now, and Slade had a suddenly neutral expression as he watched Xander handle the knife. Three quick slashes rendered Tor's knife hand useless. Tor switched hands when he backed off, but it was pretty clear that Xander was going to win this.

"How?" Slade asked, his voice almost deadly quiet. His eyes were focused on the fight completely.

"They 'encouraged' him to hide who he was," Dawn said. She frowned and stood up straight. Slade edged away a little and gave her a sidelong glance. "Of course if he wasn't so insecure about... pretty much everything, then he would have stood up to them. Whatever the case it ends now; we need a guy like that. Two of us override Buffy now. If she puts up a fight we just do it."

"Agreed," the dragon spoke. "He is too valuable to waste. He is much better than I ever thought him to be. He is skillful at making people underestimate him."

"More than I ever knew," Dawn said in a dark voice. "Makes me wonder what else I've been missing."

"You have enough to worry about without jumping at bunny shaped shadows," Anya spoke up with a shake of her head. "You miss some things, get others. I'm just glad you're taking my man seriously."

"Yeah," Dawn said quietly. "But I'm not so sure that _he_ is."

Xander stood tall, blood from a few nicks and cuts on his bare muscled chest dripping to the floor, a red stained knife in each hand. Tor was on the floor, clutching his other forearm. Tor gave a whimper and got to his feet. Xander sheathed the knives in his belt, and helped him up, throwing an arm over him to support him. Gently he walked them over to the pack and set him down. All four of them looked up at him now and he nodded.

"Get yourselves cleaned up," he said. "I think obvious bloodstains are out, even for mercenary chic. We got a message to deliver to this Ezekiel. I want to deliver it in style."

"What style is that?" Dawn asked. All five of them turned to look at her and Xander laughed.

"My personal favorite," Xander said with a wide smile. "Blow them up while you're half a mile away, hiding under a table like a frightened girl."

Tor and Heidi joined in with laughter as Xander explained what he had in mind. Anya shook her head. "Cowardice and practicality. And that is why I love him. Well that and..."

"ANYA!"

0oooo0oooo0

Ezekiel and Sarah carefully entered the building. The place was dark, and just about every danger sense the he'd developed in his short and violent life was warning Ezekiel that he shouldn't be here. But it was the agreed upon rendezvous. Sarah walked beside him, her arms loose at her sides. Ezekiel stiffened as he heard a strange whirring noise. Whipping his rifle around he watched in shock as a small plastic remote control truck pulled up and bumped into his foot.

He blinked and cocked his head to the side. It was dragging the duffel that he'd given to the Jackals. His 'oh shit' senses were tingling again. Cautiously he looked at Sarah, who made a few gestures over the bag. She frowned as well.

"Looks clean. Only thing in there is a radio and the money. All of it."

Ezekiel frowned and leaned forward. Carefully he opened the bag. The radio crackled to life.

"We're sorry," a voice came through, one that Ezekiel didn't know. "But due to unforeseen complications the Jackals will be unable to complete the task you gave them. But, hey, here's your money back. No problems or anything. Go on, take it."

Carefully, Ezekiel hefted it onto his shoulder. He looked over at Sarah, who was already forming the mudras that he expected her to.

"Of course," the voice said in an offhanded manner. "I never did say anything about the building did I?"

"Sarah!" Ezekiel yelled. Her hand flashed through the last mudra and they vanished in a pop just before the first of the shrapnel from the shack exploding into a giant fireball would have hit them. On a hill, probably half a mile away, Xander Harris smiled to himself and looked over at Anya.

"You know, I'm sorry," Xander said. "This whole vengeance thing? I can see how you could get into it."

"Oh, lover boy, you have no idea," Anya said with a satisfied smile. Her eyes glittered in the firelight from the explosion and her grin was worthy of a dragon. "No idea at all."


	12. Chapter 11 The Plague of Frogs

Disclaimer: Hellboy is the property of Dark Horse Comics and Mike Mignola. Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel are both the property of Mutant Enemy and their affiliates. I own neither, and am writing this neither for commercial distribution nor profit. If they so require I will take this down whenever they ask. Original Characters are my property and may be used only with permission. Seriously folks, all you have to do is ask. I'm writing Fanfiction for crying out loud.

11. The Plague of Frogs

Liz Sherman was not a woman who was truly emotional by most human standards. If she were Connecticut would have disappeared in an atomic fire flash decades ago. But right now she was in a singularly foul mood. She had been doing this job since she was eighteen, and in the twenty years that she'd been doing it she had seen many horrible things, monsters, demons. She and Abe and Hellboy had experienced so much in this life that very little was truly a shock to her. For instance, at the moment she was somewhere underneath Kansas City, wiping the spattered gore that was all that remained of a score or more of frog men who'd decided to jump their little strike team. She didn't even wince at those damn things anymore. Fucking frog men.

However _none_ of the many demons, mutants, and god-knows-what-else had ever pissed her off as much as Ben Daimio. Apparently it was his true gift. She wondered if Manning had placed him on the 'Special Assets' team for it. It was nearly a superpower.

"No," Liz said, her voice firm and hard. "No more agents. No more dead. I've had all of the _fact finding_ I can stand."

The bloated frog queens, heavy with tadpoles that would grow up to be man eating frog creatures were an abomination. Something deep within her recognized it, knew it as surely as it knew the heat of the sun and pounding of her own pulse within her veins. They had to be stopped. She shut the rest of them out of her mind as she reached within herself. The Flame rested there, a power that had frightened her and tormented her for most of her life. Now though, after decades of reluctant practice and two years of training, the Flame came easily to her.

Dimly she was aware of Daimio's near hysterical yelling as he pulled the entire team back. However, it was a small distraction that hardly effected her focus. The Flame rose within her eager and angry. Apparently it didn't like the frog men either.

"The fire is not my enemy," she whispered. She spread her arms wide, dark red hair beginning to dance in air that flowed from the heat she was putting off. Her amber eyes set into a face that was worn before its time by the stresses of her life began to glow within and her slightly careworn features became oddly ageless as she spoke. "It is a part of me. It is mine."

It leaped around her, called from Beyond, bright and hot and furious. The wailing of the corpulent frog queens was music to It, and It danced among them with even more energy. The light became unbearable for any without her eyes as the creatures were burned into mounds of gray ash under an inferno that left the stone beneath her boots glowing a cherry red. It strained at Its chains but it was a mindless thing, willful but without focus. Seal after seal, mantra after mantra she restrained the fire until it slept fitfully within her once more.

She slowly lowered her arms, listening to the creaking of the stones beneath her feet as they released the heat she had forced into them. Liz turned away and walked out of the tunnel. The others were waiting for her on the surface. Daimio looked like he was about to flip out. It made her feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

"I think we should take off, nuke the site from orbit," Liz said with a very tiny smirk. "It's the only way to be sure."

"Stuff it Sherman," Daimio said, but he was the one who turned away. Liz crossed her arms over her chest and shook her head. Just another day in the BPRD 'special talents' corps.

0oooo0oooo0

"So we're going to a place called Sunnydale?" Liz asked with a raised eyebrow. A tiny flame extended from her index finger, lighting her cigarette. She took a puff on it before continuing. "That's overrun with the forces of darkness. My irony sense is tingling. More like screaming."

The briefing table in the BPRD headquarters in the Colorado defense installation was like most of the giant steel building; utilitarian to the point of being nearly useless. It was hard enough to bring one's self to sit in the chairs, but the minimal supports on the table were just the right height to bang your knees on every time you moved. Liz noticed Kate bite back a curse as she shifted in her seat, bumping her shin against the cold steel. In the eternal battle of overworked employee vs. government furniture, government table wins again.

"We've known about the place for a long time," the blonde historian responded. "Just decided there was nothing to be done about it."

Kate Corrigan was an interesting woman. Only a few years older than Liz herself, Doc Corrigan had worked with Hellboy for years before. He'd sort of accidentally dragged her into their world of demons and monsters in a very direct way when they'd run afoul of demon empowered werewolves in Griart Germany. She'd picked up a few more 'practical' skills after that particularly memorable incident. She could drill a silver dollar from twenty yards with a .45. Your average anthropologist couldn't really do that.

Corrigan liked to joke that she was a 'woman of action' and practiced 'applied anthropology'. Though she looked like a very normal, if healthy, woman approaching her mid forties, Kate was as dangerous as just about any normal BPRD agent. She was also one of the smartest people that Liz had ever known. She had been the last one that Hellboy had spoken to before he decided to leave. Kate had seemed strangely torn when he'd left according to Abe. She was happy that Hellboy was looking into things for himself, that much Liz had gotten from her, but she seemed to miss him more than most. Liz wondered and not for the first time if there was something more between the two of them.

But HB would never kiss and tell, and Corrigan would probably do something extremely unpleasant to her if she brought it up. Liz could level a city block, sure, but Corrigan was _mean_.

"I believe this particular mission will require a degree of anonymity," Johann Kraus said in an amiable tone. "Abe and I will likely not be joining you."

This was true; neither of them were terribly subtle. One was a fish man, and the other was an exosuit that contained Johann's ectoplasmic body. They kind of stood out in a crowd.

"Abe hasn't been doing much since he got back from New England," Liz said, shaking her head. "Not too big a surprise. But why the hush up?"

"These people," Kate said, tossing a folder down on the table. The dossier was thick; much thicker than almost any file that Liz had seen in the Bureau. Picking it up and thumbing through it without truly reading, Liz looked up at Kate.

"Who are they?" Liz asked. Kate laughed.

"Hm, more like what," Kate said, pushing some of her short blonde hair out of her face. Even though she was laughing, Kate's blue eyes were deadly serious. "That girl, the blond skinny one? Name is Elizabeth Anne Summers, age twenty one. Apparently she goes by the name 'Buffy'. She can punch nearly as hard as our big red friend. Although she lacks the built in sledgehammer."

"What's wrong with the name Elizabeth?" Liz groused slightly. Who the hell would want to be called 'Buffy'? She raised an eyebrow. "Metahuman?"

"Oh yes," Kate said. She had a wry expression. "She's called the Vampire Slayer, worked for a society that calls itself the Watcher's Council. Professor Bruttenholm was once a member apparently. However, he resigned when the BPRD was formally created. They have been around a long time; maybe as far back as our recorded history goes. The Slayer herself is an empowered human. Supposedly ancient Shamans took the heart of a Greater Demon and bound it to the soul of a pure human girl, the noblest they could find. It granted her strength and speed comparable with Hellboy and a host of other senses and some degree of prophetic ability."

Liz felt a strange twinge in her chest at that. Something about that story affected the Flame, causing it to stir in its sleep. Liz wasn't sure that she liked that at all. She frowned a little and refocused on what was being said.

"The line is passed down to another soul when the current slayer dies," Kate continued. "And not anyone can be one. Only a young woman no older than sixteen and a descendant of the First Slayer can take up the mantle. However, that's still a huge number of people. It's been a long time since then."

"I confess," Kate sighed. "I thought it was just a myth until I was given this dossier. Apparently she's quite real and so are these others."

Kate's finger pointed at a young woman with brown hair artistically streaked with blonde standing next to the Slayer. The two of them were dressed in dark gray suits, walking through what looked like a park. The younger woman couldn't have been older than sixteen Liz guessed. For all that she looked like a mean customer. She had a lean look that Liz knew well, and she wore an almost artistic scar over her left eye.

"That girl is Summers' sister," Kate said. "Dawn Summers. There have been a lot of claims lately of another superhuman force working on this geomantic weak spot. The Spanish called it the "Boca del Inferno"."

"Mouth of Hell?" Johann asked. Kate nodded.

"Apparently it isn't a huge overstatement," Kate said. "But this new force, well, they claimed that it is creature that can be anywhere, wreathed in green flames."

The next photograph was taken with orbital assets. Liz blinked as she looked at it. It looked like a highway with two incredible splotches taken out of the middle of it. She picked it up and handed it over to Johann in his encounter suit, while turning back to Kate.

"That was bloom picked up by the ASAT defense system three weeks ago," Kate said with a grimace. "Two entities caused that. One of which was emitting a lot of light in the green end of the spectrum. The other was a heat bloom worthy of you Liz."

"This photo got our old friends at the Army's "Initiative", who's been in charge of monitoring the place, to do a little digging. Turns out the little girl here arrived in town the next day in the company of this character."

Another photo was placed on the table, this time of a well groomed gentleman in a suit. He was wearing sunglasses, but...

"And Gary Oldman was most definitely in Spain when this was taken," Corrigan said. She shook her head. "This one we think is a shape shifter of some kind. What, exactly, well... here is the next thing they caught."

This time Liz dropped the photo and whirled on Kate. "You're kidding me. An honest to god dragon is flying around out there and you're telling me we only got this _five_ weeks after the fact?"

"You should be happy you got it at all," Kate said, clearly unhappy herself. "You wouldn't believe the things I found that the Initiative and a few other parties had been doing to keep us out of that part of southern California. It was an incredible effort. That and Dr. Bruttenholm left some instructions that we were to cooperate with a Mr. Travers of the Watcher's Council whenever possible. Manning didn't really care much when our friends across the pond told him not to look. We already had enough on our plate."

"However this frog thing has got the Army jumpy and nervous. Made it a lot easier to get this and a pile of back data. Normally I'd advise that we just stay the hell away from Sunnydale. We have big fish to fry right now. However it looks like advance parties have made it all the way there."

A picture of a frog man corpse, obviously taken by police forensics, was displayed in gruesome detail. The creature had been gutted by some kind of cutting implement.

"It appears the locals do not appreciate the frog men either," Johann observed.

"I wish," Kate said wearily. "But we have to be sure. The real reason we're not sending anyone other than Liz and myself is that we really don't want to attract the attention of the Slayer. She's dangerous and she doesn't really owe that much loyalty to anyone. She just started working with a consulting company, along with her little sister."

A business card joined the rest of the intel. It was covered with an interesting symbol made of an arrangement of three Ss, connected like a triskelle. "Summers, Slade, and Associates Security Contractors?'

Liz looked up as she read aloud. "We help the helpless? What the hell is this?"

"A company founded by the gentle-thing in the Armani suit," Kate said. "And the two Summers sisters. Looks like they have about three or four employees at the moment, but they might have more any time now. They landed two contracts within a month of their founding, both prominent local financial institutions. They do good work too, apparently. They can really poke holes in your average security set up."

"I'll bet," Liz said, putting the photo down and thinking hard. This was going to be... interesting. She looked at Kate. "Well, when do we leave?"

0oooo0oooo0

Dawn slumped into her chair at the Espresso Pump. She rubbed at her eyes and muttered something under her breath. She hadn't felt this exhausted since Nuada's marathon training and hadn't felt this pissed off since Glory. It all came down to the one thing that Sunnydale _hadn't_ had a problem with until now; the fucking frog men. Blearily Dawn examined the mocha in front of her.

She nearly jumped out of her seat when Buffy flopped into the seat next to her. Dawn glared at her. "Don't _do _that!"

"I thought you were all Miss Sensitive these days," Buffy said with a smug look. Dawn slowly hit her head on the Formica tabletop.

"I have trouble on the Hellmouth," Dawn said into the tabletop. "And after Warren scrambled my brain with that amulet, I never really got it back all the way."

"Poor baby," Buffy smirked, reaching out to rub her sister's back. Dawn made a strange purring sound and leaned back again with a beatific smile. "That's better."

"Thanks," Dawn said. "My back's been really itchy lately. Anyway, how did your team do last night?"

They'd taken to going out in teams. Anything less and you'd get swarmed to death. They found that out the hard way about two weeks ago, and if it hadn't been for the Dawn Summers Dragon Delivery Service (tm) Buffy might have been laid up for weeks. Ten to one odds are tough even on a Slayer. Particularly if the things hit as hard as vampires and work in packs to bring you down.

Ever since Warren had been taken, things had been going downhill fast. More and more of them just kept coming. The strange thing about all this though was that the frog demons didn't seem to be attacking the local human population yet. They'd grab the odd person who was out by themselves, but they stayed away from groups of humans. Supernaturals were another matter entirely. Just about every vampire had gone to ground and most of the demons. They were striking ruthlessly. Last night's attack on the Dragon Wing Tavern was not a surprise. Just about every demon bar in town had either closed down, or become a fortress like the Dragon Wing.

"Pretty well," Buffy said. "That Winky guy is good to have around. We must have gotten at least twenty of them."

"Me, Fred, Xander, and the Jackals got about sixteen I think," Dawn said. She looked up as a pair of fairly attractive older women that she didn't recognize walked into the coffee shop. Both were average height. One of them wore a pair of silver earrings and a leather jacket. Her blonde hair was cut short and she had the same sort of 'tweed spine implant' that Buffy claimed Giles had. Except that she knew how to kill people. Something about the way she walked gave it away. That and the there was a slight bulge of a shoulder holster under her left arm when she turned to order her coffee from Stacy.

The woman that she was deep in conversation with was striking. Her hair was very unusual, a very dark red, almost blood colored. Though she had small crow's feet around her eyes, she was still very fit looking. She wore a pants suit, much like the ones that Dawn preferred, but in black. Her shirt was a deep red, and she wore a striking choker with a silver cross on it. She had a cigarette tucked behind her left ear. For a moment the other woman's eyes flicked around the room, almost in habit. If Dawn hadn't been looking straight at her she might have missed it. But their eyes did meet.

The red haired woman's eyes glowed. They were the amber color of banked coals, and they; well, the only thing she could call it was burned.

And for a second, the power of the Key within her... sang in a deadly harmony. Buffy gave her an alarmed look as her expression twitched into a set combat frown. The redhead matched it, her eyes growing lighter – or maybe beginning to cast light. Buffy reached out and grabbed Dawn's arm.

"What are you _doing_?" Buffy hissed. "Your eyes are glowing."

"We aren't alone here Buffy," Dawn said. "Turn around and give the redhead and Ms. Tweed a look."

Buffy did so and she also stopped and went completely still. The look on her face was one that Dawn had only seen on her face a very few times. She just couldn't really remember when. It wasn't anger exactly, but there was tension. Tension and a strange vulnerability. The redhead was even stranger to watch. The look of total shock on her face was something Dawn hadn't expected. Not after that soldier's gaze just a second ago.

The blonde next to her finished with the cash register and turned to see the way her companion and Buffy were just staring at each other. Her eyes went wide with recognition, and her hand seemed to go for her jacket with an admirable speed.

However Dawn was faster. At six thirty in the morning the Espresso Pump didn't have a huge number of customers, and none of them were looking their way in the half a second it took Dawn to materialize behind the blonde woman. She flipped the knife she had up her sleeve into her hand and dug the point very gently into the professor's back.

"I wouldn't do that," she said quietly. "I'd hate to have to snap your neck, and my sister _really_ hates guns. You don't want to piss her off. Makes me look like an amateur. Now, my name is Dawn Summers, and I've been up late killing frog men all night. So why don't we make this easy? You two come and sit with us and we have a nice little chat, eh? What's your name? No bullshit."

"Kate," the woman said, relaxing very slowly away from her pistol.

"Pleasure to meet you Kate," Dawn said. "Now sit. You too Sparky."

The redhead whipped around to look at her, as if noticing her there for the first time. She smiled at the redhead as she flipped the knife over her palm and slid it back into its sheath. The redhead looked back at Buffy almost furtively, and then nodded with the same practiced slowness that 'Kate' had.

"Any trouble?" Stacy asked. Dawn looked over at her shook her head negative. Stacy, a girl who'd been in the year behind Buffy, was one of several people in Sunnydale that the Scoobies had saved and she had some vague idea of what the two of them did to keep the people safe. She wouldn't cause problems, but she might call the cops down if she thought Buffy and Dawn were in trouble.

"No we're fine," Dawn said. She picked up the two coffees that Kate had abandoned on the countertop. "Just decided to have a business meeting unexpectedly. No big here."

Dawn took the coffee over to the table and the two newcomers sat down. Buffy was watching the redhead with a singular focus, and had the slight scrunchy face that Dawn knew meant she was thinking really fast. As if something about the redhead was familiar to her.

"Now," Dawn said with a Cordelia Chase style smile. "Why don't we get to know each other like civilized people. Let's begin with this. Who the hell are you?"

0oooo0oooo0

Liz massaged her temples. "Look, Kate, I need coffee. You need coffee. Why don't we just go get some coffee? This is going to be a long enough day as it is."

"Fine," Kate said with a slight frown. She pushed the door to the 'Espresso Pump' open and walked inside. "Just thinking of all the reports that are waiting for us to comb through them gives me a headache. Maybe coffee would be a good idea."

"I hear that," Liz said. She tucked a cigarette behind her ear and rubbed her hands together. She frowned at the display as Kate stated her order. She turned to Liz who shrugged. "Whatever they have that can remove paint from metal."

"Oh, we call that a Summers Special," the far too bouncy for this early in the morning brunette said from behind the counter. Her name tag read 'Stacy'. She proceeded to do some kind of complicated little dance behind the counter. Liz suspected it would involve some kind of espresso combination that would probably make her vibrate like the strings of violin, but she could use it today.

Out of habit she did her usual thirty second scan, looking around the room quickly. Her eyes swept over a blonde woman who was hunched forward wearing a well scuffed leather duster and curled around her coffee like a protective lioness curled around her cubs. Her gaze continued when her eyes locked with the blonde woman's companion. She was young, and her brown hair was streaked with blonde. She was dressed in a shorter leather jacket and grubby jeans. Her emerald eyes met Liz's and there was a sensation; a flicker. Instead of staring at a girl with blonde hair, she was looking at an ageless being with brown and green hair whose eyes glowed with an inner radiance.

Liz felt the Flame raise up in defiance. But for the first time in a long time the Flame, which had burned one of the Ogdru Hem and Rasputin himself to a crisp like an impudent child, felt threatened. It was all she could do to keep it from raising up against the strange girl-woman who was staring at her.

At least until the other woman turned around. Then the world froze.

Her eyes were the blue of a clear sky, and when the looked at Liz the Flame which had been banging at its cage so fiercely simply went... quiet. Completely silent. She felt a strange calm fall over her as she watched the blonde react. There was an odd sensation of lightness in her heart; but only one thought came to her clearly.

I know this woman.

She knew her like she knew her own heartbeat and the pulse of the Flame within her own soul. Vague memories that were not her own tried to force themselves to the surface of her mind, but all that made it through was a vague fog of recognition and a strange sense of peace. She hardly noticed the fact that the green haired girl was behind Kate now. Until the woman addressed her. She turned to her and barely registered the words through the pounding of her own pulse in her ears. Liz was aware that she was nodding and then she was sitting with her coffee in front of her. Both Kate and the girl (Dawn Summers?) were looking at her and the blonde woman with concern.

"Liz? Are you alright?" Kate asked. "Dawn here just asked a question I thought you should help me respond to."

Liz looked away from the other and towards her old friend. She felt the very foreign sensation of a genuine smile on her own face.

"I can't hear it," she said quietly. Kate's eyes went wide.

"I assume it is what I think it is?"

"Yes," Liz said looking back at the blonde. Very slowly she extended her hand to the blonde woman. "Elizabeth Sherman."

"Buffy Summers," Buffy said in a strangled tone. The touch was strangely electric and Liz felt the tingles of power that ran between them. "How... I know you. How do I know you?"

"I don't know," Liz said after a moment. Dawn cleared her throat.

"So, you guys aren't from around here," Dawn began, looking desperate to control the flow of the conversation. "Who do you work for?"

"The U.S. Government," Kate said after a moment of consideration. Dawn's head jerked around and her eyes became emerald slits.

"The Initiative?" Dawn asked. Kate shook her head quickly.

"No, in fact if anything we're a rival organization," Kate said. "We're older too. We were founded back in the thirties to fight Hitler's occult forces."

"That crap actually happened?" Dawn exclaimed. "Next thing you'll tell me is that Lobster Johnson was real."

Kate made a face. "I refrain from comment. Now..."

"He _was_ real," Dawn said with wide eyes. "Oh... Xander is going to flip."

"Lobster Johnson?" Buffy asked, the bizarre name shaking her out of her reverie. Dawn grinned a little.

"He's the guy that The Shadow and probably Batman were based on," Dawn said. "According to the urban legend he fought against crime, Nazis, and weirder things in New York City during the twenties and thirties. Of course, no one ever really _saw_ him do anything. Didn't even really know what he looked like. Xander was such a fangirl when he was younger."

"He wore a jacket like yours," Liz said, looking away from Buffy to Dawn. "Bomber style. Wore a cap and goggles too. Word has it he had a hell of a right hook. Or so an old friend claims."

"Myth aside," Kate interjected. "We... well we're here for a few reasons. Perhaps there's somewhere we can go and talk a bit more privately. It has to do with what Dawn mentioned more than anything else."

"I have a place," Dawn said after a moment of deliberation. She looked over at Buffy and gave a small nod. Buffy shrugged.

"Fine by me, it's your office, and you're the bossy lady," Buffy smirked.

"Oh that is _so_ not fair," Dawn huffed as she got up, taking her coffee with her. "I have nothing on Buff-zilla. Ugh. All right ladies, step right this way."

Liz got to her feet along with Kate. The two of them followed Dawn out of the coffee shop, taking a turn around into a fairly abandoned alleyway. Buffy followed, looking like she was kind of in a haze. Liz swallowed some of her coffee to wet her rapidly drying throat. Dawn turned around and looked at them with a sweet smile.

"Alright," Dawn said. "Time for the express. Hold on to your hats ladies..."

There was flash of light and Liz felt the terrible sensation of falling through the universe. She looked around her, and in that instant she saw it. The substructure of the universe laid out like the I beams within a building, the stuff that held the universe together. Then the falling was over and she stumbled into a room that she didn't recognize. It was a beautiful office, like someone who ran a law firm would have, but the obvious key motif running through the furniture and the great seal set into the black marble of the floor gave it an edge. It reminded her of Professor Bruttenholm's office. Where he'd died.

A man in a leather jacket with graying brown hair jumped in surprise. Dawn turned to him as Liz and Kate fought to regain their balance after the mind warping journey.

"Dawn! I was just her cataloging the demonology books that we were bringing up from the Magic Box and..."

"Giles," she said, cutting him off. "We have a bit of a problem. Feds, but not Initiative. Someone else."

"BPRD?" Giles asked as he gave Kate a long look. Kate, who had just straightened up, looked surprised.

"You know who we are?" Kate asked. Giles shrugged.

"I knew a Professor Bruttenholm when I was a child. He was an associate of my father, and a fine Watcher. I hope he is still with you."

"No," Kate said, but shrugged. "Before my time."

"He was a hero," Liz said, finally reigning in her rebellious inner ear. "Rasputin and Sadu Hem killed him. Ate his soul. All we got back was an empty shell. But he gave us what we needed to win."

Dawn went pale as a sheet. "You killed one of _Them_?"

"Burned it alive," Liz said, looking up to stare Dawn in the eye. The Summers girl was looking at her with respect and no little fear. "I've killed it, and I'll kill any others I meet."

"Me too," Dawn whispered. Liz cocked her head to the side.

"What?"

"Gl'athro Hem," Dawn whispered. Buffy blinked.

"The whosy what?"

"The Divine Glorificus," Dawn said. She shook her head and turned aside. "Buffy, could you bring Slade up here? I want all three of us on this."

"Yes oh bossy one," Buffy griped, but she was still too foggy to object to much. She wandered out of the door. Dawn waited for a few seconds in silence before rounding on Liz.

"Alright lady," Dawn said. "What the hell are you? Because you ain't a human."

Liz leaned back as if she'd been slapped. Dawn shook her head in irritation.

"You think I give a damn about whether you're human? My best friend is a troll lady. But I can feel you. You're a..."

"Demon," Liz whispered. Dawn blinked.

"Actually I was gonna go for angel, but okay if you wanna think that fine."

"I'm..." Liz began and paused. "Maybe it would be better if I just showed you."

She pulled out her cigarette from behind her ear and held out a fingertip, lighting the tobacco in a flash. Liz brought the cigarette to her lips and took a drag. She gave Dawn a lazy look.

"Pyrokenisis," Giles said with a tiny degree of awe. Dawn shook her head.

"No," Dawn said. "You're not a psychic like that. There's something _in_ you, isn't there? Just like there is in Buffy. An entity; maybe an Outsider and one powerful enough to kill an Ogdru Hem."

"How could you tell that?" Kate asked. Dawn looked at her and smiled a very strange smile.

"Because I'm not human," Dawn said. "I'm... eh, I guess I would say that I'm an interested neutral party. I've had a lot of things people used to call me. But that isn't important. What is important is what the hell she's doing to my sister."

"Something is wrong with Buffy?" Giles asked warily. Dawn nodded.

"She had this funny look," Dawn said, without taking her eyes off Liz. "And it took me awhile to remember when I saw it. The only person I ever saw get that _look_ was Angel."

Giles stopped his glasses polishing. "Oh my."

"That's what I said," Dawn replied. She turned and gave a sigh, walking behind the huge desk and gesturing towards the seats in front of the oak construction. Liz, slightly confused by this, sat down along with Kate. "All right, all weirdness aside, you guys are here for a reason. What is that?"

"The plague of frogs," Kate said. Dawn raised an eyebrow.

"Great name for it," she commented. Kate gave Dawn a mirthless smile.

"Well that was the prophecy of Sadu-hem," Kate said. "Saint Agnus the Lesser had a way with words."

"You know Saint Agnus the Lesser?" Giles asked with a hint of respect of his own. Kate grinned and the two of them launched into a conversation that lost Liz pretty much instantly. Dawn didn't even bother trying to track it. Instead she seemed to be drilling a hole in Liz's forehead with her eyes.

"What?" Liz shot at her. The younger Summers girl smiled at her.

"Look," Dawn said. She took a deep breath, composing herself. "My sister's... in a vulnerable place right now. I just don't want people screwing with her head, and your very presence seems to do that. So please; whatever is going on in your head right now? I'm not going to tell you to stay away from her. That would be _so_ Buffy of me. But I will give you a warning. Don't hurt her. She's had so much hurt in her life I don't know if she can take any more."

"She's not the only one," Liz said, meeting Dawn's stare head on. They locked gazes like that until the door behind them slammed open and an exuberant looking man in a charcoal suit swept into the room followed by a much more focused Buffy.

"So, what's the rumpus?" Slade asked with a grin. He looked the two BPRD representatives over with a keen eye. "Ms. Summers the Senior says we've got government agents here to help us... kill the spawn of the Ogdru Hem?"

"Yes actually," Kate said. "This was supposed to be a covert inspection of the town. We're actually trying to figure out why so many of the frogs on this side of the Continental divide are moving through Sunnydale."

"The Hellmouth," Slade said with a shrug. "Easy answer. They can hide out here really easily and it's a powerful dimensional rift if you want to summon something from elsewhere. Here, let me show you. I think the visual will help you some. Mr. Wink and I liberated this thing from the remnants of that Initiative base here in Sunnydale."

He walked over to a bookshelf and pulled out a rolled up diagram. He unfurled it on the conference table to the side of Dawn's desk. It was designed like an engineer's blueprints, layers of tunnels, which fit over one another. Kilometers of them underneath the town. Liz's eyes went wide as saucers.

"You've got to be kidding me," she said after a moment. "They could fill all of this if they wanted to?"

"Tunnels aren't unoccupied," Buffy mentioned, leaning over Liz's shoulder to look at it with a thoughtful frown. "But they all converge on the old Sunnydale High School. It's kind of wrecked now, but if I were a slimy toad man with people problems and a love of dank tunnels it's where I would hole up."

Liz looked up at her with a wry smile. "You know, I could get used to working with people who have a sense of humor."

"That's us," Buffy mumbled, looking away. "A laugh a minute."

"I believe that your hypothesis might prove correct if they want to open the Hellmouth for example," Giles stated. "But we cannot be certain of that. I for one would not wish to venture in those tunnels with anything less than a small army."

"We've got one of those Giles," Dawn said quietly. "We have a Buffy, me, Slade, Mr. Wink, Spike, the Jackals and as much as I hate to say it, Willow. Plus the rest of you guys aren't exactly slouches."

"And you have one walking nuclear weapon," Liz said quietly. Dawn tilted her head to the side, but gave a single sharp nod.

"I think recon in force might not be a bad idea," Buffy said. She gave Kate and Liz a speculative look. "Take the government types with us. If they do well, maybe we can talk about working together more."

"I don't know about that," Dawn cautioned. Giles gave a nod of agreement. "As much as I'd like to trust them..."

"They're the government," Slade countered. "Which means they also have money. Money which we need if we're going to continue here. Perhaps if things go well, we could discuss a more long term agreement."

"Bu-but," Giles began. Slade gave him a very sharp look.

"Money equals better library. Government contract equals money. You do the logical transposition. Now, perhaps we should strike during the day. The creatures seem to sleep at such a time, am I correct?"

"That's true," Kate said. "As far as we can tell they really don't like sunlight, even though it doesn't seem to actually hurt them. Not like it does a vampire."

"We can access the tunnel system from here," Dawn said, pointing to a location on the map that marked their building. "We're only about a mile away from the Hellmouth core. Do they spread out?"

"Not so much," Liz said with a grim expression. "They tend to group together in huge hives. They have... queens, I guess. Things that have thousands and thousands of tadpoles. We don't know how fast they mature but given how many of them there are."

"We're all fucked," Slade observed. He rubbed at his goatee and gave Liz a long look. "Alright. Proposals?"

"Get everyone and the Jackals together," Dawn said. Buffy nodded and picked it up from there.

"Anyone that can see in low light would be great. Spike, Mr Wink, and I can do that. Get night vision goggles for everyone else? Maybe get the Jackals to bring their flamethrowers on this one," Buffy mused. Dawn made an equivocating gesture.

"Flames like that plus enclosed spaces equals bad Buffy," Dawn said. "On the other hand, mayhem. Choices, choices."

"I know, this is worse than shoe shopping with you," Buffy said. "Look why don't we just have the Jackals take one flame thrower and the rest of them have those carbonite things?"

"The M-4 carbines?" Dawn asked with an arched eyebrow. Buffy nodded and Liz and Kate burst into almost uncontrolled laughter.

"What?" Buffy asked defensively. Liz shook her head with a small smile.

"Nothing, just been a long time since I've been around someone who knew so little about guns," Liz said with a small genuine smile. "Particularly in our business. Who are these Jackals?"

"Hm," Dawn said. "Perhaps it would just be better if you met the Jackals. They down there practicing right now?"

"Yup," Slade said. Dawn nodded. The entire group trailed down the passage ways and down two flights of stairs and further down past a sealed metal door. The basement was quite homey, but the racket could be heard from where they were standing. Dawn walked up to what looked like a newly installed door and clanged on it a few times before opening it. The incredible racket of firearms being discharged in an enclosed space cut off. A group of four feral looking men and women were now standing lazily at ease. They were dressed in the black that most BPRD strike teams preferred and the weapons in their hands looked familiar to them. One other stood aside with his arms crossed over his chest, a lopsided smile on his face.

"Xander," Dawn said. "How goes the racket making?"

"Pretty good," Xander replied. "All we need are some tennis balls."

Dawn couldn't repress her groan and shook her head.

"Ladies, may I introduce you to Xander Harris, head of the 1st Sunnydale Irregulars, the Jackals. This is Tor, Heidi, Rhonda, and Kyle. This is Liz Sherman and Kate Corrigan."

"A pleasure," Xander said. "Well for me at least. You may not think so in a moment. Okay so, looks like we're on already again. What's the story?"

"Well it looks like we may be able to take the fight to our froggy little friends down in the tunnels," Buffy stated. Xander gave her a dubious look.

"Listen, I know you're all 'super lady' but for the rest of us I don't like that scenario thanks. I like my limbs intact and attached to my body."

"We're taking everyone we can," Dawn said. She grimaced. "Even Willow. Look, if we let this get worse it's going to get a lot worse. Apparently these things breed like those lovely roaches you used to have in your apartment."

Xander blanched slightly. "Well, could we at least get a few hours sleep?"

"Yup, I just wanted to let you guys know. Standard contract for this one. You bag it we pay you. Simple and easy."

"Good," Tor said lazily. "I need a new couch anyway."

The other three laughed in a way that was disturbingly manic. Liz raised her eyebrow. At least she knew why they were called the 'Jackals' now. They filed out while Dawn walked over to Xander and laid a hand on his shoulder, giving him an understanding look. He shot her a hollow looking smile, before disassembling the M-4 faster than anyone she'd ever seen. Even Daimio wasn't that fast with Bureau issued case-less battle rifles.

"Um," Buffy said, catching Liz's attention again. She looked over to see Kate and the Giles man drawn into another deep conversation about something completely mind numbing. "So... you wanna get some food? Lay down for a while?"

Liz shook her head. "Too wired. You?"

"Ditto," Buffy said. She frowned. "Well okay. I could show you around the town if you want. Not much of it; my adopted sister used to say it was a one Starbucks town. You know, wrong side of the tracks basically the same place as the right side."

"It didn't seem that bad," Liz offered. Buffy laughed.

"It isn't, and besides it has it's... Hellmouthy charms. Like demons. And frog men who want to turn you into freaky mutant copies of themselves."

"Something every town needs," Liz said sagely. She smiled and grabbed Buffy's hand. "Come on, why don't you show a girl around town."

Neither of the two of them noticed the concerned look that Giles, Dawn, and Xander shared. Kate raised an eyebrow as Liz dragged Buffy out of the room, but otherwise said nothing. However, she was keeping her wits about her.

0oooo0oooo0

For being situated dead on top of a dimensional sinkhole, Sunnydale was a surprisingly nice town. They'd gone out, hit some shops, something Liz hadn't done in _ages_. Maybe ten years. It was funny, but she felt ten years younger too. They'd ended up back in Buffy's office at the Summers, Slade, and Associates building.

It was a strange room, Liz mused taking a sip through her straw from a raspberry smoothie. The hardwood floors were pretty much the only thing it had in common with Dawn's office. Buffy's desk was tiny in comparison, with only a slightly scuffed looking laptop on it. The walls were lined with racks, most of which held an incredible array of bladed implements of death. Yet there was also the glaringly pink things set at odd intervals. A study in contrasts, that was Buffy Summers all the way through. The idea of fighting evil in a pink jacket just wasn't something the BPRD didn't prepare you for.

Yet here Buffy was, a lover of fashion, if not obsessed. But she also had the steel behind her eyes, the kind that made HB one of the most feared beings in the world. Buffy had stared a God in the eye and the God had been the one to blink.

She also had that hollow look. The look of someone who hadn't decided whether to live or to die. Most of the time she put up a good front. But every once in a while when she thought no one was looking she would slip into the thousand yard stare of someone who has seen such things that they are consumed by it.

Liz knew that look too. It was her look. And seeing staring out at her from Buffy's blue eyes made her heart twist. It was like a brilliant mirror held to her own flaws, and it made Liz feel afraid and compassionate at the same time

"So," Liz prompted, leaning back in her chair. "How did you get into this business?"

"You mean the monster squishing, or consulting?" Buffy responded, sitting down on a couch set against one of the walls. Liz smirked.

"Monster squishing," Liz said. Buffy shrugged.

"Got Chosen by the spirit of the Slayer when I was in ninth grade,' Buffy said. Her eyes were distant. "Before that I was a valley girl, you know like in the worst kind of teen movies. Maybe worse; but then I burned my old school gym down. That one kind of ruined my social life for the rest of high school. Things kind of went downhill from there. You?"

"I was twelve when they took me into custody," Liz said, looking distant. "It was hell. They were terrified of me."

Flame sprang to her hands and she wove it into symbols as she worked through the mudras that the Hyperborean monks had taught her. Buffy watched the dancing flame with wide eyes. Liz smiled a little.

"They wouldn't even... they didn't even talk to me," Liz said. The memory burnt like acid, but she kept going. "I just wanted to talk to someone, but they all ran away from me. It was like being locked away, but worse than the asylum. At least there they didn't wear heat suits."

Buffy twitched and her face went pale. "That would... really suck."

"Until one guy said screw it," Liz said with a small laugh. Her eyes felt slightly damp. "He went in there, no suit no nothing. Just his old canvas duster with too many pockets. He said 'Mind if I come in?'. I was so shocked. I asked him why he was talking to me, he said why shouldn't he? I asked him if he was afraid of me. He said 'nope'. One of the kindest men I ever met. He was a hero."

"Sounds like some guy," Buffy said, slipping into the fey mood that seemed to have descended on the room. Liz nodded.

"The best," Liz said. "Haven't seen him in years though. Still, I joined up because of him. I mean, I kind of did it so they would let me out of the containment room. But mostly I did it because I knew he would approve of it. I've been hunting things since I was your age. Seems like a long time ago."

"I dunno," Buffy said, leaning back and looking at her out of the corner of her eye. "You look pretty good to me for a full time monster hunter."

"Thanks," Liz said, letting her smile widen. "But I've led a hard life. Smoked too much, gotten stabbed too many times. I can't really cut a bikini anymore."

"That's a shame," Buffy said, getting to her feet and walking over to the large open space that dominated her office. "You have the figure for one. More than lil' ol' flat chested Buffy here."

"That's kind of you," Liz said. "But I know better."

Buffy gave her a skeptical look. There was silence for a moment. Buffy grinned. "Still antsy huh?"

Liz nodded. "You?"

"Yeah," Buffy said. She slid into a stance, giving an inviting look to Liz. "This usually calms me down. It was something... an ex taught me I guess."

"You guess he taught you?" Liz said, getting to her feet. Buffy grimaced.

"More the ex part," Buffy replied. "We had a complicated relationship."

"More than I can say for me," Liz said, sliding into a passable copy of Buffy's stance. They transitioned into another position. "Never had anyone really."

"Why's that?" Buffy asked, sweeping low in a graceful maneuver.

"No one wanted to date a walking holocaust," Liz said. Buffy winced.

"I could see how that could be harsh," Buffy said. "Well, I didn't get out much anyway. He was kind of a special case, and it ended... really badly. Most people just knew I blew up my high school gym. Pretty much branded as a psycho from day one in Sunnydale."

"God," Liz said with a shake of her head. "I never even went to high school. Just got my GED and learned how to keep from blowing everything up."

"You got one up on me," Buffy muttered. "I blew up two high schools. I think that's a record somewhere."

There was silence after that, and Liz found that as she slid through the Tai Chi motions alongside Buffy, her head did clear and the grating nervous feeling she always had before missions was fading quickly. At last they slid into the final position and Buffy looked over at her.

"Better?"

"Much," Liz said. Perhaps she would have said something more when there were a pair of sharp knocks on the door and Dawn stuck her head in. She looked much better than before, the dark circles under her eyes not nearly so pronounced.

"Hey guys," she said. "Thirty minute prep before we head out. Get yourselves ready."

0oooo0oooo0

Liz was impressed with them. That was hard to do these days.

They moved professionally, a team that had worked together in the past, one that had seen blood and hate and death. One that was still standing. They had split up into two teams. As big as the underground was, it wasn't big enough for all of them at once.

Liz had been assigned to Dawn Summers' team. Consisting of Mr. Wink, Winston Slade, and a witch by the name of Willow Rosenberg, they were a tight team for the most part. Apparently Dawn Summers hadn't been kidding when she said her best friend was a troll. Mr. Wink was surprisingly civil, but he was in fact a nine foot tall troll. However, their absolutely professional demeanor was comforting to Liz. The only one who really smacked of 'civilian' was Rosenberg. However, the palpable aura of power around her was making Liz's hair stand on end.

The tunnels beneath Sunnydale were eerily quiet. Far different from the living breathing town that they had seen above. The stone walls were old... much older than the new California glitz above them. The walls were curved, but vaulted more like a cathedral than the half pipe sewers that Liz had grown so tired of. Liz's team moved from point to point, covering every entrance with practiced eyes and a motley assortment of dangerous looking weapons.

They came to a void ahead of them, Dawn's eye shining in the dark like green lanterns. The younger Summers held her arm up and immediately everyone tensed. Searching the darkness with her own sight, Liz realized what it was that had caused Dawn to pull up short. They were finally here.

The ceiling retreated into the darkness above them, and Liz could make out with her own augmented eyes the forms of a half dozen frogs poking around in the rubble in front of them. Wreckage that could have been the sub-basement of the high school Buffy had mentioned scattered on the tunnel floor. Dawn made a gesture to Willow and Slade. She mimed something that Willow seemed to understand, because she nodded and moved in front of Liz. Slade, wearing armor that she would swear was Hyperborean in design, flexed his fists. A pair of two foot long blades sprung out of his gauntlets and he nodded to Dawn.

Dawn and Slade just vanished. Willow closed her eyes and began a silent chant. Liz could _see_ the power rolling off of her. The air itself distorted around the bookish redhead, and when Willow's eyes snapped open they were the black of a clouded midnight sky.

Then the death started.

The frogs below began to die, so fast that Liz could barely follow Slade and Dawn, but she did see a flare of black armor here or bronzed gauntlets and stainless steel there. The two or three frog men who ran from them went straight for Willow. Liz shouldered her rifle, but Willow shook her head and gestured broadly with her arm. A trio of black bolts sprung from her hands, and the frogs disintegrated under her touch. Only small bits of blackened skeleton remained to indicate where they'd fallen.

It probably only took fifteen seconds from start of mayhem to finish. Very effective.

Dawn motioned for them to come forward. They did so cautiously and Dawn pointed over her shoulder to a shaft that seemed to lead eternally downward into the darkness. Liz could feel it. Like sandpaper crossed with goosebumps across her skin. Dawn gave her a mirthless smile.

"El Boca del Inferno," Dawn said. Her voice echoed strangely in the open space. "Welcome to the Hellmouth. Alright guys let's check the bottom levels of the High School and the surrounding tunnels. Hopefully nothing horrifying is sitting here right now."

0oooo0oooo0

It turned out this time that Dawn got away with courting the Demon Murphy. There wasn't anything there. Plenty of tunnels, true, but after checking through the high school and its environs and then checking in with Buffy's team that was handling the northern half of the ruins, there was simply not real activity here. Buffy's group had ambushed several frog men, but there had been less of them than Dawn's team had encountered.

They were sitting, feeling slightly stumped when Mr. Wink had pulled Dawn aside for a moment. Listening intently, she nodded a few times, and then rejoined the larger group.

"Well folks, this just got interesting," Dawn said. "Looks like they _were_ holed up here. At least until a few days ago. Maybe a week. It looks like our froggy friends here have decided to move. Of course, they didn't hide their trail very well. Mr. Wink thinks he can follow it. Do we go?"

"I say yes," Buffy stated. "We need to put the pressure on these guys for once."

Dawn shrugged and turned to Slade. Slade nodded once. "I agree with Buffy. We should also move quickly. We are burning the daylight hours away."

Mr. Wink's ability to track in the gloom was invaluable. Liz would have been lost a dozen times in the insane labyrinth that ran underneath the town of Sunnydale. She could feel the presence of the frogs though. The Flame was stirring restlessly in its sleep. She also had the feeling she was being watched, but by what she couldn't say.

"We're under New Hope," Dawn muttered behind her. The green haired girl that was not a girl was distracted by something as well. She shot Liz a look. "Can you feel that?"

"Yeah," Liz said, adjusting her grip on the M-4 in her arms. "But I have no idea what it is."

"Well, let's keep it together here," Dawn said. "And watch for any signs of ambush. These things may not be as smart as a human, but they are smart enough."

Liz shrugged. The winding tunnels were growing wider and wider, but here it looked as if the excavation was quite a bit more recent. The stone had not been dulled with age, and the sharp imprints left behind by a digging tool of some sort were obvious to see. The widening tunnel finally gave way to a huge open chamber. At the far end of it, perhaps a hundred feet away, was a solid spike of some kind of rock that was different. It was darker, more solid; ancient, really.

At the peak it was flattened and a weapon unlike anything that Liz had ever seen was embedded in the rock. It's blade had a red cast to it, and it tapered down to a wooden spike at the end. Standing behind it was a frog man who wore an amulet that burned with black fire. It watched them with eyes that were dark with malevolent intelligence.

The silence stretched out as Dawn's entire team froze. Dawn looked like she was trying to process too many things at once. Slade had a look of recognition, and Mr. Wink kept his beady eyes on the priest, a growl coming from deep within. Willow just looked confused, shaking her head as if her ears were ringing or something.

The pause was broken when Buffy's team shuffled into the open chamber from behind. They pulled to a stop, and the frog man smiled at them.

"Eh nog so na Thoth ma," the frog stated. "Ne nov Anum je veth Anung un Rama."

Liz felt her heart pound and she fell to her knees with a gasp. For a woman who lived a life of pain, this was definitely on her new top 10 list for torture. Anung un Rama... she knew that name, had heard it before, but her memory was failing her in her agony. Through the haze of... whatever was happening to her she saw that Buffy had reacted in exactly the same way. The frog reached out and caressed the handle of the weapon. Spears of agony ran through Liz as he did so. The Flame was screaming at her now, but something was restraining it. Which was actually good, because she sure as hell couldn't.

"Ve ja neth mo," Dawn shouted back. The frog man looked at her, and while his attention was elsewhere Willow began to chant behind them. Dawn's voice became deeper in its fury and a chorus began to join in, as if she were speaking in a hundred different voices at once. "Na Anum ma so naa j'neth."

"Naa then Noth?" the frog asked in amusement.

"Jev ne ...," Dawn shot back and the last word she spoke was something that Liz just couldn't hear. She saw Dawn's mouth move, and sound was present, but it was totally incomprehensible. Greenish white fire transformed her hair into a glowing mane, and her eyes cast out beams like a lighthouse in the gloom.

The frog man took a single step back. It had an expression, not of fear, but of supreme wariness. Liz felt the strange muffling of her power and the pain fade away again. She was able to stand shakily and glare at the creature. It hesitated for a moment, but quickly regained its balance. When it tried to step forward again however, it bounced off of a distortion in front of it, the impact sending hexagonal ripples of light in a plane in front of it. The creature screamed in frustration.

Liz turned to see Willow, her eyes black as midnight and right arm outstretched, straining to hold the barrier. Before Liz could truly register what was happening, Buffy was in motion. She was a blonde and white blur. The frog-priest gave a horrible croak just as Buffy's hand closed around the haft of the weapon and effortlessly pulled it from the stone.

Then all hell broke loose.

The frog men poured in from every direction, from tunnel entrances that Liz hadn't even noticed. However, not everyone had been as paralyzed as she had been. One of the Jackals, a blonde girl, had planted a curved device facing back the way they'd come. Yellow text stood out to her eyes as the woman slammed it home into the dirt.

"This end towards enemy."

Dim memory caused Liz's eyes to widen and she turned away just in time. The claymore antipersonnel mine was not a new device. Devised almost forty years ago now, it was designed to be a force equalizer. Effectively it was a directional charge embedded with hundreds of ball bearings. Red had once said that they were "BPRD Buckshot". It certainly lived up to Hellboy's nickname this time. There was thunder and flying rock and then there was that eerie calm that descends when your eardrums are a hair's breadth away from shattering. It added to the surreality. The horrible din from the Jackals' rifles and the infernal heat of their single flame thrower were a sensory overload.

The passage they had come down, which had been filled with frog men was now filled with cooked hamburger. Xander and the others were snapping off three round bursts with a speed that was much higher than human normal. They were like machines, pushing back the tide with lead.

However, contrary to popular fiction, bullets that fit into a personal rifle didn't have the force to actually knock a human aside, let alone a rampaging monster. And there were a lot of rampaging monsters. The first of them reached the Scoobie lines in seconds only to be met by the snarling dragon in bronze. He was fast and strong, though not as fast as Buffy had been. Liz was still raising her rifle when Slade smashed into the frog's lines like a bowling ball into a neatly arranged stack of dominoes. They barely even slowed him down, bodies flying everywhere.

Liz whirled just in time to put a three round burst into a frog man that was reaching towards her with its tongue. Mr. Wink's huge cleaver swept in front of her killing another four frogs. Heart pounding Liz could see Buffy hacking her way back through the frog men towards them. But her strength; it was impossible. Nothing slowed her blade down, flesh parting like air. And the speed... Liz watched as five frogs were caught by her sweeping scythe, sending them flying to crack their heads on the far wall almost a hundred feet away.

Then she was lost in the firing and the blood and the death. She felt a very human hand on her should and turned to see Kate motioning to her. Blood trailed down the side of Kate's head from a glancing blow, but she seemed alright. The Jackals had pushed back into the tunnels, and it looked like they were fighting to get clear. With a sense of relief she saw that Dawn and Buffy had fought their way clear and were now holding the horde back with spear and scythe, covering their retreat.

Liz turned to Kate feeling a sudden calm come over her. She raised her hand in the signal that Kate knew very well. The anthropologist blanched and began hustling the rest of the teams towards the doorway. Reaching within herself, she calmly walked backwards.

"The Fire is not my enemy," she said, though she could not hear her own words. Flame sprang to life on her arms. Dawn, seeing this, brought her arms together and then apart. It was almost like watching Moses part the Red Sea. A wave of force spread out in front of her, knocking the frogs onto their backs. Grabbing Buffy, Dawn vanished. Liz saw Willow placing another mystical shield in place as Corrigan shouted in her ear. There was a snap, and a sparkling wall of light separated the tunnel from the rest of the main chamber.

And now Liz was alone in the den of the monsters. Just like she always was.

"It is a part of me," Liz said as the frogs struggled to their feet. The heat around her was too intense now, and the creatures began scrambling to get away from her. It was far too late for that though.

"It is mine."

The shock wave incinerated every frog man in the room in a holocaust of fire and death. All of the frog men except for one.

The priest walked forward through Liz's flames, his own black fire protecting him even as the Flame howled for his blood. The ambient air temperature was high enough to melt steel, but the frog looked unperturbed.

"Vril nath Anum," the frog said, tilting its head in a gesture of respect. "Joth na sommen."

She felt almost as if it was apologizing to her as it drew a black stone knife from a rawhide belt that it wore. It leaped at her, the obsidian weapon glittering in the light. There was nothing she could do now. She would loose control if she moved. The slowness with which the arm descended towards her chest was agonizing.

Liz was going to die alone. And in that moment she realized something. She really didn't _want_ to die. The universe's irony machine must have been working overtime.

The priest was heavy as it knocked her to the floor. The coolness of the black knife as it entered her shoulder was a strange sensation, until the searing agony overrode every other feeling. It raised the knife again to stab downward when there was something... else.

A flash of white, and the priest was howling as it flew through the air to smash into the far wall. Liz's uncomprehending eyes focused on the face above her. Blonde hair waved in the superheated air. She was haloed by brilliant white light that flickered across her body the way the flame danced across Liz. Clutched in her left hand was the scythe, and as she extended her right hand down, Liz remembered.

I know this woman.

_Her right hand reached into the heavens and drew her forth, the stolen flame of Creation. But she could not love Her any less for Her sins. Cradled in the Right Hand of Anum, she was aware and alive. The Flame wove herself into Anum's Heart even as She brought forth the Great Dragon. Forever together and separate._

_"_Vril nath Anum," Buffy said with a beatific smile. The white light that shone from her now golden eyes was gentle and fierce at the same time. Something more than the troubled woman was looking out at Liz in that moment. Something as old as the world itself. Hesitantly Liz grabbed Buffy's arm and it was cool to the touch. "I can't leave a girlfriend behind can I?"

"How?" Liz asked. Buffy gave her a sardonic smile as she holstered the scythe where her axe had been, now lost in the battle. She hoisted Liz bridal style like she weighed nothing.

"You can't hurt me with the Flame," Buffy stated as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "It's a part of me, just like we're part of you."

She sprinted towards the passageway at a speed that left Liz breathless, and then they were on the other side of the shield. The amazed faces of the 'Scoobies' were fixed on Buffy, who smiled and promptly passed completely out. Only quick action by Slade and Dawn kept Liz from cracking her head on the stone wall. Gently Dawn lifted her sister up, giving the scythe on her back a wary look. Slade picked up the much heavier Liz with the same ease that Buffy had.

"So, is this the kind of thing you guys usually end up doing?" Kate asked, exhaustion clear in her voice. The Jackals looked at one another and then back at their leader. Xander un-shouldered his M-4 and shook his head.

"Naw," Xander said in a casual drawl as he passed her to take up point position. "Sometimes it _really_ sucks."

0oooo0oooo0

"How are you doing?"

The voice jolted Liz out of her reverie. She looked over to see Dawn leaning against the door jamb. They were in Buffy's apartment at the headquarters building. They'd put her here for now, and she'd so far been asleep for almost twelve hours. Liz hadn't left her side yet, despite both Kate and Slade protesting that she needed sleep. Dawn walked into the room and sat down on the bed, next to Buffy and facing Liz in her chair.

"I'm fine," Liz said. Dawn laughed.

"You say that a lot don't you?" Dawn asked. Liz gave her a haunted look and Dawn's expression became sympathetic. "You know I'm beginning to realize just how alike you both are."

"What do you mean?" Liz asked. Dawn shrugged.

"You have the same expressions," Dawn said. "You've seen things that you ought not to have. And you keep going because it's what you do."

Liz shrugged, turning to look back at Buffy. "It isn't much. I am who I am I guess."

"And modest too," Dawn's voice was sardonic. "But we can work on that. Liz, what happened down there?"

The sidelong look that Liz shot Dawn made the younger girl harden her gaze.

"That's my sister you have right there," Dawn said. "She manifested powers that she never has before. I beat her once in a fight; I'm not sure I could now. She's faster, stronger, and apparently has a heat resistance better than asbestos. So what the hell lady?"

"I don't know," she said after a moment. "What did you and the priest talk about?"

Dawn looked uncomfortable. She crossed her arms under her breasts as if she was cold, though the room was warm enough. "He said 'Welcome to this place fragment of Anum and friend of Anung un Rama.' Then he started torturing you guys so I told him to... well fuck himself really. He asked me who I was to say that; so I told him _exactly_ who I was. That seemed to get his attention."

"Yeah, it did," Liz said. She was silent for a moment, looking at the sleeping Buffy. "She's never shown _any_ powers like that before?"

"Not in my presence," Dawn hedged. "I heard once that they managed to channel the pure power of the Slayer through her. She was kind of a bitch, but she was a walking superpower. She was... I dunno. She moved at Matrix speeds, you know? Stopped bullets with her hands. Maybe even weirder stuff."

"Yeah," Liz said, thinking of how Buffy had rescued her.

"Powers like that aren't without precedence," a voice said from the shadows. They turned to see Spike standing there.

"What?" Dawn asked, looking mildly irritated. Spike had a thoughtful expression.

"Saw her do a jump that might as well have been flying the other night," Spike said. He cocked an eyebrow. "Come to think of it, she did it right about where that Holy Hand Grenade, or whatever it is, was buried."

"Giles, Fred, and Willow are working on that," Dawn said. "We have to figure out what it is. Heck, even Kate has been nice enough to do a little discreet research into it with her Bureau resources. You think it has something to do with the Slayer?"

Spike nodded, but Liz violently shook her head.

"No," Liz whispered. "It's... It isn't just that. It... dammnit, I don't know how to say it! It's old; older than the Slayer. And it has a greater purpose than that. I know that much just from being around the thing."

Further questions were forestalled by Buffy letting out a groan and her eyes fluttering open. She sat up with a start until Dawn and Liz placed hands on her shoulder and gently lowered her down. Collapsing into the bed again Buffy coughed once or twice.

"Ugh," she said. "Did you get the plates of the semi that hit me?"

"No, sorry," Dawn said. "I was too busy dragging your heavy butt here. I have some questions though. What happened down there?"

"I... I don't know," Buffy said, sounding almost irritated with herself. "I remember the shield going up, and I remember Liz being in trouble. Now I'm here. In the bed. And I have a hangover, which by the way, _so_ not fair."

"Er," Dawn hemmed, leaning forward and handing Buffy a mirror. "You're gonna want to look at this."

"Why, is something wrong with my hair or something?" Buffy asked.

"Or something," Dawn said.

Buffy held the mirror up and stared. Into eyes that were now an almost sulfur yellow, bright and shining like a cat's. "Whoa..."

"That's what I was thinking," Dawn said. "But you see alright, yeah?"

"Yeah," Buffy replied, still a little speechless. "Maybe even better; I dunno."

"You don't remember anything?" Liz asked hesitantly. Buffy shook her head again, lowering the mirror with a frown.

"No; it's like, I dunno, it's on the tip of my tongue or the edge of my memory. But I can't remember it. The harder I look the further away it keeps getting."

"Oh," Liz said, looking slightly downcast. "Well, are you feeling okay otherwise?"

"Yup," Buffy winced. "Just another day on the Hellmouth. Only, you know, with frogs instead of undead who look at us like juice boxes. Offense intended Spike."

"Oh look, she's back to picking on the defenseless vampire," Spike mocked. "She'll be up and about in no time. Now that I know you aren't going to die, I think I'll be off elsewhere. Cheerio."

And like that Spike wandered out of the room. Buffy and Dawn followed him with narrowed eyes.

"You know," Buffy said. "Sometimes I just want to stake him."

"I know the feeling," Dawn muttered. She looked over at Liz. "Kate's been in contact with someone she calls Director Manning. You know him?"

"Yeah," Liz said, taking a cigarette out of a rumpled pack in her combat vest and lighting it. She breathed in deep and then exhaled. "He's not bad for a government asshole. But he's still a government asshole. He is the Director of the BPRD."

"Well apparently we're going to send some representatives to Colorado, maybe work out a mutual sharing thing, maybe help each other out more," Dawn stated. "We're on the same side, especially with the froggies."

"I guess you'll be seeing more of me then," Liz said. Buffy smiled a little.

"I wouldn't mind that," Buffy said. "For an old lady you fight pretty well."

"Old...," Liz spluttered for a second. She frowned. "I'll show you old you..."

Dawn and Buffy laughed, despite the weak joke. Liz leaned back into her chair and allowed herself one of her rare actual smiles. For the first time in a long time, it really felt _good_ to be alive.

0oooo0oooo0

The crumpled form of the priest lay smoking on the ground beside where the scythe had been buried. It could not help but feel a sense of frustration. All of the followers of Katha-hem were gone; who was it to shepherd now? And so it laid on the blasted ground, unblinking as it tried to understand what the next step should be.

What was the will of Katha-hem, Changer of Worlds?

The crunch of boots on gravel caused the despondent frog-priest to look up and blink once. Its eyes traveled up the form of the man thing in his pitiful environmental suit, watching with wariness.

"Mr. Mears?" the suited figure asked. "Are you still... in there?"

The frog priest shook its head. That was a name, yes. A name that it remembered from another time. A petty time, before it was the arm of Divinity. It decided a single croak was good enough for the simpleton in front of it.

"Excellent," the figure said. There were a half dozen 'whift' sounds, and then the priest's vision was clouded. The last thing he saw before the darkness claimed him was a single word; a word that he had seen in visions; dreams. And there it was, so simple; the will of the Gods. Emblazoned on the speaker's clothing in black and orange. The symbol of the Herald itself.

ZINCO


	13. Chapter 12 Ezekiel's Wheel

Disclaimer: Hellboy is the property of Dark Horse Comics and Mike Mignola. Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel are both the property of Mutant Enemy and their affiliates. I own neither, and am writing this neither for commercial distribution nor profit. If they so require I will take this down whenever they ask. Original Characters are my property and may be used only with permission. Seriously folks, all you have to do is ask. I'm writing Fanfiction for crying out loud.

12. Ezekiel's Wheel

"All right, this just isn't going to work," Xander said in a frustrated voice. He placed the an M-4 carbine on the table and glared at it as if it were some kind of offensive bacteria. "The Jackals had a bunch of these that they got who knows where. But these things just ain't going to cut it. Just about anything we fight that a gun could damage, these things just aren't going to kill fast enough."

"This piece of junk nearly got my fiancée killed," Anya said, crossing her arms and leaning back in her chair next to Xander. "So what are we gonna do about it?"

The entire group of Summers, Slade, and Associates decision makers sat around the table. Unfortunately all the Senior Partners just looked slightly helpless. Fred, Xander, and Anya were the only ones who looked genuinely thoughtful.

"Well there's plenty of options I guess," Fred stated, pulling a pen out of her lab coat and sketching something on her yellow pad as she spoke. "Bore size and cross sectional area times mass times velocity gives you stopping power. So what we really need are older style things; things with bigger bullets."

"Yeah," Xander said, getting the distant look that the occupants of the table realized was him digging into memories that were not truly his own. "I know that... I used to prefer my M-14 over those piece of crap early M-16s. I was pissed when they took it away."

"Well there are people who sell converted M-14's these days," Fred said helpfully. "My daddy had one. Maybe we can figure something out. There's something else we could try too..."

"All right then," Dawn said, leaning back with a sigh. "You guys just take care of it. It isn't our style of combat. Now, to wrap up, Buffy, you're off with Liz on the monster hunt. Giles and Slade, you guys are going to negotiate a more long standing contract with our 'friends' in the Government, right?"

"Yup," Slade said. "We should be out of town for three weeks at least. We've got a lot of things to go over with them, and I want to be sure we really get the best out of them we can."

"Fine by me," Dawn said. She stood up and gestured towards the door. "Now, I hope everyone can at least get a decent night's sleep before we all split up for the four corners of the country. Goodnight people, and I hope you have pleasant dreams."

0oooo0oooo0

It was always the same.

She was running through the arctic forest. She could hear them snapping at her heels, a power that was bestial and hungry. But she was fast; faster than the hunters. The frozen pine needles blurred as she pushed herself to human limits and beyond. She skipped over rounded smooth rocks and icy patches like a mountain goat, constantly hopping and in motion. Then she had left the forest.

The plain of the tundra stretched before her, open and broad beyond any comprehension of someone who had not lived on the great plains of the earth. Freedom was so close; but the way was barred. In front of her stood an army; thousands upon thousands of the restless dead. Decaying skeletal fingers clutched weapons tarnished and rusted by the passing of the years. They formed up in a motley line, nobles standing next to peasants with pitchforks, all men equal in death.

Surveying it all upon her chicken legged house was Her. The Witch.

The Witch was bent with age, a tan and haggard crone, who stared out at her with a single glowing eye that contained such a singular hate and fury that it made her blood run cold. She stood, leaning upon her cooking spoon inside her huge mortar and pestle, and her smile contained equal parts forbidden wisdom and promised pain. In any other place, she would have laughed at such an image as comical.

Here, it made her feel a terror she hadn't felt since her mother had started letting johns spend the night in their ratty apartment. The Witch _was_ the things in the darkness; the fears of childhood made manifest and brought forth again, no less powerful for all the maturity that so many claimed. But she knew better. She always had.

She had to break through; had to escape – but The Witch barred the way. The army of skeletons grasped at her, pulling at her already inadequate clothes, tearing them. Bony fingers scratched her skin, and bronze brittle with age left tiny incisions on her skin. Still she pushed forward. She pushed forward until she could push no further; then the skeletons swarmed her. Pulling her down against her will, she could hear the drifting song on the wind.

"Mine you are once," The Witch crowed. "By blood and hate. Mine you are twice, by fear and doubt. Mine you are thrice by promise and foresworn oath..."

There was a rumbling like thunder. The Witch looked up at the clouded sky in fury. "No, this one belongs to her Grandmother. The light in her eyes was promised to me, for my fence of skulls! You cannot take her from me!"

"Watch me," a deep voice rumbled. It had a timbre that you felt more than heard, so low that you could sense it moving through your bones. Then the skeletons holding her just... exploded. A rough hand, huge and strong, lifted her to her knees, and she stared up at him.

He was tall, so very tall, like a mountain. A pair of long curling horns protruded from his head, and upon his head was a crown of flickering flame. Eyes the color of sulfur stared down at her from under a craggy brow, and his red skin, the color of fresh blood, was covered in scripts and tattoos unlike anything she had ever seen. He wore a long coat that flapped in the wind, and a pair of black cargo pants. His feet narrowed down into broad cloven hooves, and where they touched the snow it steamed. His left hand still grasped her shoulder gently, and his right hand was blood red stone, brutal and elegant all at once. The Right Hand of Doom, the wind whispered. Anung un Rama. Ender of Worlds.

And yet, looking up at him, she felt no fear. For his face had a gentle smile that no true demon could ever have. Effortlessly he pulled her to her feet.

"You shouldn't listen to witches," the demon said in a conspiratorial voice. "They lie. A lot."

"Impudent creature," The Witch howled. "I should smite you where you..."

"You be quiet hag," the demon said, turning to look at her. "Or I take the other eye."

He turned back to her. "Now get going kid. They're going to need your help, even if they don't know it."

"Who are you?" she asked. He smiled, pulling a .45 from his belt and turning to face the witch.

"A man trying to do the right thing," he said. He leveled the weapon at The Witch. "Now scat. We'll see each other soon enough. Remember, you gotta keep the faith."

She did run. Snow flew under her feet.

Faith Lehane spasmed awake, sitting bolt upright in her prison bunk. Her eyes were wide and her heart was beating like a drum. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she swung her legs over the edge of her bed and leaned her elbows on her knees. She held her head in her hands, feeling dizzy. Every fucking night for the last month. This wasn't Slayer dreams; this was fucking bottled insanity. A flick of a lighter was like a cymbal crash to her sensitive ears, and she looked up to where a small flame hovered over a Zippo lighter engraved with a fist clutching the hilt of a sword.

The cherry red glow of a cigar illuminated a figure standing in the shadows, briefly. The sickly sweet smell of the smoke assaulted her senses and hit her with a nicotine craving all at once.

"Who's there?" Faith demanded, standing up and clenching her fists.

"A guy with some questions," a deep voice responded. She blinked.

"No..."

He walked forward into the light. And though his horns were cut and filed, and he wore no crown, she knew him very well. He stuffed the lighter back into the oil-cloth duster and puffed again on the cigar.

"Name's Hellboy," he said, taking the cigar out of his mouth. "And Ms. Faith Lehane I gotta say, I got a few things I'd like to know. Like this; you had any interesting dreams lately?"

0oooo0oooo0

Why, Dawn Summers wondered, do Tuesdays suck?

She was exhausted already. She had never dreamed that she would be this tired just by working in an office. It was worse than being pounded on by Nuada. The core of the problem stemmed from the fact that the cozy fiction that people had about the 'supernatural' being not real was beginning to fade. The sheer number of frog men that were assaulting the nation was just too damn hard to hide for any party.

Things were changing. The age was moving.

And Dawn was one of those lucky people handling the paperwork required for it.

Finishing her last report to the BPRD, she leaned forward and rested her head on her desk. Government contracts; they may be better than gold, but the cost in paperwork was making the profit dubious in her enlightened opinion. Also there was the personnel shortage. Slade and Giles were currently in Colorado neck deep in further negotiations with Manning. Buffy was out with Liz on a raid on central Oregon. The Jackals were on loan to Angel for a manhunt of some kind. Some vampire called Darla something-or-other they were keeping under wraps got loose. She'd retained Xander here for the moment, but the other four were in L.A.. Fred had reached some kind of a breakthrough and was working something like sixteen hours a day. She barely stopped to sleep and eat right now, and both Andrew and Jonathan, little monkeys that they were, were working just as hard. Dawn decided to stay out of her way. So, as far as patrolling went, it was really just her and Mr. Wink.

It was actually kind of nice. They hadn't just bashed heads in together in a long time; it was good to reconnect. However it was tiring. She was working almost eighteen hours a day, sleeping in her attached office, and hadn't been back to her home in almost a week. She knew it was a rough time right then, but she was really looking forward to Slade and Buffy getting back. She could use a spa treatment.

Making a decision, she flipped the folder on her desk closed and tossed it aside. She rose to her feet and threw on the leather jacket that Buffy had given her. She tied her hair back with a casual sigh and walked down stairs. Tara had already gone home for the night, and all was quiet in the front office. Dawn paused for a second, looking at the triple S and smiling. There really was something to be said for pride of ownership. Turning away she walked out and down the street towards her house. Who knew, maybe there'd be something that needed to be taken down before the sunrise.

She'd made it about ten blocks before she noticed it. Three separate presences, moving towards her quite quickly from behind. Reaching into her jacket, she pulled out her spear and turned around. The three people she saw ceased their advance and looked at her. Their leader was a man with shock white hair, in a shaggy cut. His rifle, balanced over his shoulder, was in a decidedly non threatening position.

Next to him there was a woman wearing a series of amulets; magic, Dawn realized. She could feel the strange echo coming off of them. The other gentleman was a large man, perhaps six and a half feet tall. He was handsome, black, and built like a battle tank.

"Hey there," Dawn said. "Stalk much?"

"Only exceptional individuals, miss, I assure you," the white haired man grinned. His deep voice was almost like Sam Elliot's; kind of down home yet utterly dignified and confident. "I figure a woman like yerself wouldn't much be troubled by folks like us."

"How about I decide that," Dawn stated, gripping her spear more tightly. The white haired man shrugged and gestured with his free arm.

"Well in that case, I'll just skip on by the pleasantries and get right on to the point. You have somethin' that's too dangerous to let go. I reckon you thought that you blew me up; right good piece of work there miss, may I say. But I have something I need to do and I am sorry about this; but I care more about this world than my ability to sleep sound at night."

Dawn felt something change; magic, powerful magic. Her vision began to blur, and she collapsed to her knees. Her spear rolled over the blacktop under her, and she watched it with uncomprehending eyes. Why, she wondered to herself in a strange moment of detachment. Why is it always Tuesdays? Then darkness descended upon her and she knew no more.

0oooo0oooo0

"Argh!"

Fred looked up from her desk and saw Andrew walk by waving his hands around in frustration. She blinked, pushing her glasses up on her forehead. He appeared to have a piece of paper covered in diagrams and scripts. Walking over to where Jonathan was sitting, Andrew slammed the paper down and looked to be winding up for an epic whine.

"How do you do this?" Andrew griped. "I mean, magic doesn't have to be this complicated!"

"It does if you're doing it right," Jonathan said in a level voice. He looked over at Andrew's diagram and shook his head, while clucking his tongue. "No, no, no. You need to adjust this, this, this and _then_ put down the trigrams."

"Grr," Andrew slumped into the chair next to Jonathan and put his head in his hands. "You know, Willow's magic isn't this hard to do."

"What?" Jonathan asked carefully. Andrew gave him a slightly superior smirk.

"She's already got me floating pencils and I just got my first major spell. So far it seems to be working like a charm. Maybe I'll show it to you pretty soon."

"Um, okay," Jonathan said. "Does she have you doing meditation or anything to center yourself? I mean, with that kind of magic you have to be really centered to handle it that intuitively and still be safe."

"Oh yeah," Andrew said with a dismissive wave. "It's easy to do. And it's really cool when you feel the power running through you."

"I bet," Jonathan said cautiously. "Well... I've got some things I need to get done here. You going home?"

"Yup," Andrew said, standing up again.

"All right," Jonathan said quietly. "See you tomorrow."

"Later," Andrew said. Jonathan followed him with his eyes until he was out of sight, and then he shook his head sadly.

"He just doesn't get it," Jonathan said. "I hope he's careful with that."

Fred stood up and walked over to where Jonathan was working. "You going to keep working tonight?"

"Yeah Boss," Jonathan said. "I am. I got to finish up these modifications that you're wanting to put through. This pressure plate thing is cool; I think it could really help."

"Well," Fred stated, patting him on his shoulder. "You're a good guy. I'm glad you're working with us now."

"Thanks," Jonathan said, beaming at her. Fred raised an eyebrow.

"I do have a question for you though," Fred said, leaning against the table that Jonathan's blueprints were spread out on. "Why did you end up with those two guys anyway? I mean, I never really knew Warren, and Andrew, bless his heart, is smart. But he is a little..."

"...Like an immature geek?" Jonathan prompted. Fred laughed.

"That'll do."

"I guess... I guess I was just bored really," Jonathan said, leaning back and thinking about it. "I mean, Warren wanted power, and I think Andrew just wanted to bask in Warren's confidence. But me? I just wanted a little excitement in my life. I was tired of nothing working out and tired of being stepped on in life. I wanted to be, well, someone important. Did they tell you about the time I became a superstar?"

"No, actually," Fred said.

"That's odd," Jonathan said. "Most people have at least a few small fragmentary memories of the demon's work. It was probably about a year ago?"

"I wasn't living in this dimension then," Fred said. "I was a slave."

"Oh," Jonathan said, looking awkward. "Well, anyway, I summoned a demon – it made me a superstar for a little while. I was famous. A hero. But... but it wasn't really real. And I wanted something real, even though I'm the first guy to say I'm a coward. I wanted to be important for a good reason; a real reason. Seems kind of stupid now, I guess."

"Well," Fred said, standing up with her curiosity satisfied. She gave him a sympathetic smile. "Who knows? Maybe you'll get your chance yet."

0oooo0oooo0

Tara walked in the front door, humming a tune to herself as she walked behind the front desk of Slade, Summers, and Associates. Putting her bag down she sat down at the desk and pulling up her keyboard. She stopped and looked up as Willow entered from the back, with a slightly disturbed expression on her face. Tara smiled at her and waved.

"Morning baby," Tara said. "How was the night shift?"

"Long, annoying, and far too Tara-less," Willow said, leaning over Tara's desk to give her a kiss. "But that's okay. I just caught up on my dosage."

"Mmm," Tara said, leaning back. She pulled out something from behind her desk and frowned at it. "Have you seen Dawn today? I have an invoice for her."

"No, actually," Willow said. "I haven't seen her since she left last night. She was going home; I guess she wanted to sleep in her own bed."

"Weird," Tara said with a shrug. Willow chewed on her bottom lip a little and pulled a glass dream catcher out of her bag. Looking at it with a critical eye, she suddenly gasped. Tara looked over and blinked. "What?"

"I think Dawnie's in trouble," Willow whispered.

0oooo0oooo0

"So, what's the problem today?" Anya asked with an exasperated air. The committee was quite visibly lacking it's heaviest hitters. Xander, Anya, Tara, Willow, and Fred sat around the conference table. Mr. Wink, far too large for the table, leaned against the wall and observed the proceedings with a level eye. Willow's glass dream catcher sat on the center of the table, and she was fidgeting in her chair much more than usual.

"Dawn is missing," Willow said. Everyone in the room straightened instantly.

"What do you mean by missing?" Xander asked after a moment of silence. "You mean like 'I'm finally acting like a normal teenager and decided to wander off' missing or more like 'oh god, oh god were all going to die' type missing?"

"Mo-more with the 'we're all gonna die' type thing," Willow said. She considered it for a second. "Only without the death. After Dawn came back... I, um, made something to help keep track of her."

"Keep track of her?" Fred asked with a raised eyebrow. "Like an RFID chip they put in prisoners?"

"Um, more like a magical Dawn detector," Willow said. "I, er, was studying how Dawn's magic was put together; you know, how she can look like a person?"

"As far as I'm concerned she is a person," Fred stated with cold eyes. "But please go on."

"Well I found the anchor points of the spell, you know, the things that keep her manifested in the physical world," Willow said, building up steam. "It turns out they make a kind of magical ripple wherever she is. I made this to track how far away she was and in what direction."

Willow held her hand out and spoke a single word. A flicker of green light wove it's way around the glass, never ceasing in its motion. Xander blinked to himself and leaned over it curiously. "What's going on there? What does that mean?"

"It means she's still here," Willow said. "But something's scattering her pattern all over the place. Like she's under a-a-a ward or something. Something really powerful."

"And no one's seen her anywhere?" Anya asked, looking around the table. "I mean if she's in Maui we'll all look like idiots; justifiably."

"She's not anywhere around that we could find," Tara spoke up. "I even did a bit of a locater spell on her. I-I-It was just like the dream catcher. Everywhere and nowhere."

"Well, we have to do something then," Fred stated. She pulled out a small notepad and took down a few notes. "I can run a few checks on the computer systems and see if the cops or hospitals picked her up. I can set a few programs to go fishing and see what they can find."

"That could take awhile," Anya said thoughtfully. "We may not have much time. Most kidnappers would have sent a ransom note by now if they were going to, assuming she was snatched last night."

"Then what do you suggest?" Fred asked in a frustrated voice. "Everything takes time."

"Except maybe this," Willow added softly, pulling a small plastic bag and holding it up to the light. Inside the bag, light reflected off a handful of strands, green and brown. Tara's eyes widened.

"What's that?" Fred asked.

"Dawn's hair," Tara said in a very quiet voice. "B-b-but it's been reinforced with other magic. It's a super strong connector; we can cast a more powerful tracking spell with this. We might be able to burn t-t-through what's hiding her."

"You sure about this?" Fred asked. "It seems a might... unorthodox."

Willow looked over at her and smirked.

"What's wrong robot lady," Willow asked. "You upset that your toys don't work as well as mine? It's okay, you should go back to your lab. I'm sure you have tons of important things to do. Let us 'unorthodox' guys handle this one."

Fred's face crumpled slightly, and she pushed off against the table hard, sliding back and getting out of her chair. Without another word she ran out of the room, but Xander could see the tears building in Fred's eyes as she left. He turned back to Willow.

"Way to go Cordelia on the girl Will. Real mature."

Willow gaped like a fish for a second and frowned, crossing her arms under her chest. "W-well if she is gonna be all hissy about my magic, maybe she should get a thicker skin."

"Whatever, I see enough weepy people every day," Anya said. "Let's just get this spell started okay? Maybe then we'll have some place to go."

"Um, guys?" Xander asked. "I hate to be the one to ask this; but did we misplace our nine foot tall troll with a metal arm? Because I'm not seeing him."

Everyone left in the room looked around in surprise. Unlike the proverbial elephant in the room, no one could find a trace of him.

"You know, can I just go on the record here saying that Mr. Troll being sneakier than Deadboy is really unnerving?"

0oooo0oooo0

Mr. Wink had had enough of those fools' prattle. He strapped his heavy sword onto his back and secured his glamor over himself. It was true that he was slightly weaker in daylight than at night, but it would hardly matter. This was a matter of life and death; quite literally.

If his vow to keep Dawn from dying were ever truly broken, it would kill him just as surely as it would kill her. Besides, she was his friend. Mr. Wink didn't have enough of those that any of them could afford to be wasted.

Finishing, he left out the front door, his magic making him seem like a moving heat shimmer to most observers. There was the rare odd one who could see through it, but anyone who could probably wouldn't want to mess with him, as angry as he was at the moment.

He followed the trail, sniffing every so often. Aurora's scent was one he knew well; the musk of a woman's sweat, the hint of gunmetal oil, and a touch of the strawberry shampoo she was so fond of. It was a comforting smell to the old troll. He followed it out onto the street and paused. Something had happened here, he realized. Dawn's scent was masked now, but traces of something remained; some kind of incense. A rare kind; one that could be tracked. Shouldering his cleaver, Mr. Wink took a deep lungful, and began to track.

He knew Aurora, he had trained her himself. She was fast, strong, and more importantly very smart indeed. She knew what to do. As much as part of him worried, particularly about his oath, another part of him was eager to see just what Aurora would do to them once she got free. It would probably be a masterpiece. But for now, he was on the hunt.

And when he found what he was looking for, a lot of people were going to be in a lot of very uncomfortable pain and suffering. After all, Mr. Wink had a God given talent for pain and suffering.

0oooo0oooo0

Rubbing the last of the tears out of her eyes, Fred collapsed into her chair. Andrew was working on one of the major load bearing servos on the side, far too engrossed to notice her come in. Jonathan however, looked up from his computer with a frown. Setting his laptop aside, he got up and slowly walked over to her.

"You okay Doc Burkle?" he asked. She gave a hitching laugh and looked up at him.

"Is that what you call me now?" she asked. Jonathan shrugged uncomfortably. She just shook her head. "No, I'm n-not all right. Dammnit."

She slammed her hand against the work bench in front of her and collapsed forward to hold her temples with her hands. "Aurora's gone missing."

"Missing?" Jonathan asked. "Like, as in kidnapped?"

"Or something," Fred said in a shaky voice. Jonathan looked slightly stunned.

"But she's a... I don't know what," Jonathan managed finally. "Couldn't she just teleport or whatever?"

"Sure, unless they knew exactly who she was," Fred replied. "You can prepare for stuff like that if you're smart."

"That's true," Jonathan mused. "You know I was looking at a Solomonaic binding that I used to use. It could do something like that. You know, if I was Dr. Strange."

"Not a big mojo guy huh?" Fred asked. Jonathan gave a nervous shrug.

"I'm alright," he said after a moment. "But I'm not all into the whole 'Wiccan commune with the Earth' thing. The idea of that much power scares me; you know, it's like having the power of the earth running through you. Dealing with demons is safer than that."

"Really?" Fred asked, sitting up.

"Sure," Jonathan shrugged. "Demons and angels have rules... like, well actually a lot like computer programming. If you do the spell right, it's just a program. The critter does what you ask it to and then leaves. But that stuff... well put it this way. For a natural born witch it's one thing; they're born for that in a way. It's part of them, and they can bargain with the powers. But even they can overextend themselves. You know how most people think Mother Nature is some benevolent goddess thing?"

"I had heard that on occasion," Fred stated with a wry smile.

"Exactly," Jonathan said. He ran a hand through his gelled hair and pursed his lips. "She... if you can call it that... is the biggest bitch you've ever met. If you take too much, or use it the wrong way, no matter how good your intentions, she takes it out of your hide in some way. Sometimes you might just have some bad luck. But you might turn into a raving lunatic that's a conduit for Nature's Wrath. Give me Lucifer any day; at least I _know_ what he wants. But Mother Nature? Who the heck knows? I sure don't."

"Hmm," Fred stated. She lifted an eyebrow. "You go on up there then and tell them I sent you, okay? Keep an eye on them for me. I don't want any more crazy than usual."

"You want me to do what?" Jonathan asked slowly.

"Go up there and help them cast that spell to find her," Fred. "They got some kind of 'supercharged' hair or something."

"Can I get my stuff first?" Jonathan asked. "This.. this sounds heavier than anything I've worked with in a long time."

"Knock yourself out," Fred replied. Then her eyes went flat and cold. "But you keep an eye on Willow y'hear? There's something about her that seems off. Like how did she get that hair? Aurora ain't been exactly trusting since the... er, incident two and a half months ago."

"I promise you I'll do my best," Jonathan said, looking touched by the trust she was showing him.

"You do that," she stated. And as he walked away with a new spring in his step, she deflated a little. Biting her lower lip, she raised her voice. "Jonathan?"

"Yeah Doc?" Jonathan asked.

"Keep her safe for me."

Jonathan gave a surprisingly grave nod. "I will."

0oooo0oooo0

Buffy strode out of the smoking ruins behind her, flexing her hands and reflecting on how the nest in Sunnydale had been a _lot_ easier than this nightmare. And at least in Sunnydale she'd gotten to wear what she wanted. Here? A _very _unflattering black jumpsuit. It made Liz, who was much curvier, seem like she had no figure. Buffy looked like a stick. A slightly smoldering stick. Liz followed behind her, looking slightly bedraggled as well, but smiling. Liz put a cigarette between her lips and raised an eyebrow at Buffy.

"Cigarette?" she teased. Buffy scowled at her.

"Nuts to you," Buffy humphed. She turned to look back at the ruins that the BPRD agents were still securing. "Did you have to light up like that?"

"The cigarette or the building?" Liz asked with an evasive smile.

"Yes!" Buffy grumped.

"Yeah, I pretty much have to," Liz said. "Sorry about your hair though..."

Watching the agents scurry, Buffy gave a dismissive wave of her hand. "That... that was a bad one. Lots of them there."

"Yeah," Liz said. "There were an awful lot of them there this time. That was almost twice the Sunnydale hive. Good news here though, only have one more left. This one's in North Dakota. Are you excited yet?"

Buffy's eyebrow actually twitched as she stared Liz down with her burning yellow eyes. Liz just gave her a brilliant smile, full of teeth, and Buffy turned away with a half muttered sigh.

"One more and then I go home," she groused. "God, I never thought I'd miss the beacon of culture and class that is _Sunnydale_."

"L.A. girl is spoiled," Liz laughed. "Come on, this is the life! Monsters to slay, lovely damsels to rescue, the works."

"The only 'damsel' I rescued was you," Buffy said. Again Liz simply smiled. Buffy shook her head in irritation. "They wouldn't even let me take the Scythe with me. That would have made this whole thing _so_ much easier."

"Look," Liz said after a moment, her teasing expression fading and a hint of shadow coming back. "We don't know what it is, what it does, or what effect it has on you. It already changed your eyes. What else would it do? I think your guy Giles had the right idea with that."

"Giles is a smart guy," Buffy admitted. "But it still would have been nice to have."

"Maybe," Liz said, a sudden inspiration coming to her. "But who knows. If you use it too much you might end up like our froggy friends. I've seen guys turn into all kinds of things. It isn't pretty. You'll never find pumps to match those tentacles that used to be your arms."

Buffy winced. "Good point. Well, I hope Dawn is enjoying her little 'vacation' back home. It's gonna be better than this. Almost has to be."

0oooo0oooo0

Dawn's first conscious thought was that everything sucked. It wasn't much of an intellectual powerhouse, as thoughts go, but it fairly aptly described her situation. Slowly the feeling came back to her arms and legs. She moved them slowly, and felt the tug of metal restraints on her arms and legs. They were chained to the floor or something. She had a little freedom of movement, enough for her to sit up. Her head was still spinning a little, but as it centered itself, she opened her eyes and looked at the ground. She was secured in the middle of a circle, one that wasn't used to contain demons, but rather one used to contain angels. She could tell because when she reached for the Key within her, nothing happened.

And that was terrifying.

"Ah, I see you're awake Ms. Summers," the twang from earlier stated. Dawn looked up with a groggy expression. Sitting on a chair that was flipped so that its back was towards Dawn, the white haired man sat watching her with intense blue eyes. Around him a small horde of people were running around doing things, but what exactly Dawn couldn't tell.

"Oh, you," Dawn muttered. "Deliverance boy. Screw you. I'm gonna kill you."

"Better than you have failed to do so," the man stated. "But we never were fully introduced. My name is Ezekiel, and these lovely folks are members of the Society of Arete."

"Are you actually monologuing?" Dawn asked, still half in a stupor.

"Not as such," Ezekiel said. He leaned back in his chair. "More like telling you some back story. I can give you that much at least. You ever heard a' Hyperborea?"

"Yup," Dawn said. "Even met someone who was trained by some monks who claimed to be descended from them."

"A lot of people claim to be," Ezekiel stated. Dawn laughed.

"She can blow you up with her mind," Dawn stage whispered. Ezekiel blinked.

"... and some folks actually are," he allowed with a suspicious look. "Anyhow, lots of folks know of 'em. They had better technology than us poor humans, and they ruled the earth for a long time 'afore us folks came around."

"Well," Ezekiel continued. "Back when everything fell apart, there were those of the mind that the weapons and relics of old Hyperborea were what caused the collapse. That someone needed to keep an eye on them, keep 'em hidden, keep 'em safe. So those last old Left Hand path Hyperboreans gave a group of us humans the charge to keep these things outta the wrong hands. You know why Hitler didn't use Excalibur to take over England?"

"Because it was in a lake?" Dawn ventured. Ezekiel laughed.

"Nope," he replied. "Better guess than some though. Naw, we hid it away. It and a lot of other things. Things no man ought have to himself. We did a nice thorough job here of raidin' old Wilkin's cupboards once the ol' snake passed away. Some of the things that boy had... I tell you, send chills down the spine."

"So you find these things, and hide them," Dawn articulated. Ezekiel nodded.

"Pretty much," Ezekiel said. "But here's where things get complicated. See there was this order o' monks who said that they would hold onto something for us. Something powerful. Real powerful. Old Grandmasters at the time, well they trusted them pagan monks. More than they ought have. But of course, time comes around that we go to check in and what do we find? Nothing. It's all gone, artifact and all."

Shivers ran down Dawn's spine. Ezekiel was giving her a very measured look.

"So, we thought it was lost. Imagine our surprise when we comes to find out that one of the old Dark Gods nearly takes off with this artifact and almost destroys the world. And we realize that ain't no one here capable of protecting it. So, we do a little digging, and we decide it's just too damn risky to let this thing wander around."

"I see," Dawn said, gulping slightly. Ezekiel gave her a thin smile.

"So why don't you tell me, Key of Dagon, just what you've been up to?"

"Um, no offense," Dawn said after a moment of consideration. "But would you mind if I told you to fuck off and die?"

"Not really," Ezekiel shrugged. He turned to the others. "Get this ready. We'll need to use the containment spell soon. Her friends are a little _too_ competent for us to dawdle."

"What are you doing?" Dawn asked carefully. Ezekiel turned back to her, and his gaze was measuring.

"Stripping away those concealment spells," Ezekiel said. "Reverting your form, so we can transport you. Keep the world safe."

Dawn felt the bottom of her stomach drop out, and she gave him a pleading look. "Please, you don't know what you're doing."

"Unfortunately for both your false life and my damned soul," Ezekiel said, looking genuinely remorseful. "I'm afraid I know exactly what I'm doing. And I'm sorry girl, I truly am, but this ain't a high school drama. This is the fate of the damn world, and one life, real or fake, ain't worth that kind of risk."

Dawn struggled for a moment against her chains, and slumped down. And deep within herself she knew. Knew that something terrible was coming.

She knew that the Key was coming.

0oooo0oooo0

Jonathan peeked his head into Dawn's office. They had set up a circle on the floor there and Tara and Willow were sitting in the center. Tara looked kind of nervous in Jonathan's opinion, but Willow looked oddly confident. Anya and Xander who were watching the proceedings turned to towards the door.

He stepped in after an awkward wave. "Hi guys."

"Hello Mr. Bank robber," Xander said, giving Jonathan a once over. "Why are you here exactly?"

"Um, Fred sent me," he said. "I was coming to see if I could help with the spell."

"Well you can tell Fred that..." Willow began, but to Jonathan's surprise, Tara reached out and touched Willow with a firm hand.

"A third would balance it," Tara stated. Willow looked into Tara's eyes for a moment, as if searching for something, then gave a reluctant nod.

"Alright, fine," Willow said with a pout. "But don't you dare mess this up buster. This is important."

"I promise," Jonathan said nervously. He walked over and moved into their carefully prepared circle at an oblique angle. Willow blinked in surprise and Tara gave him a wide smile. He looked over at Willow in some exasperation. "Look, you know darn well I'm no newbie. I've been doing this longer than you have."

"It'll be fine," Tara said in a soothing voice. Willow's look transformed into a smirk.

"Good, then you'll be able to follow this," she said, pointing to notes in the center of the circle. Jonathan looked it over and blinked. He turned to her.

"You... sure about this?" Jonathan asked after a moment of silence. "That's a lot... really a lot of power."

"Of course I'm sure," Willow said. "I've been a conduit for more than this before."

Jonathan didn't know whether to be impressed or terrified. He settled for terrified. "Right then, well I guess we need to get going."

The three of them settled down and began to chant. It was not the High Magick of the angels that he was using now, nor infernalism which he understood quite well. No, this was primal, deep, and uncomfortable. Their hands joined together, Jonathan and Tara wove a structure around Willow's energy, a scaffold of brilliant light to any who could see it. Finishing their own chants, they settled back while Willow took control.

It was a heart stopping experience. The sensation was much like what he imagined a mouse manhandling a fire hose on full blast would feel like. However despite his worries, their magic held and there was a lance of light that descended from the heavens, filling the room for an instant with a flash brighter than any camera bulb.

Willow's eyes snapped open, black and without pupils.

"I know where she is. And they are doing something. Magic to unbind her."

"What?" Anya asked, raising an eyebrow. "Are they trying to turn her into an orb of energy again or something?"

"Maybe, but I know a lot more about these spells than these guys seem to," Willow said, her eyes returning to their usual green. "What they're doing isn't going to return her to that form. That was a construct also. What they're doing is going to just erase any constructs around her at all."

"What exactly would that mean?" Xander asked. He had a nervous expression, and a tic in his right hand.

"It could mean nothing," Willow said after a moment of consideration. "Or Dawn might just disappear; poof out of existence. Or..."

"Or what?" Xander prompted with a growing look of alarm.

"Or it could allow a being of unknown power manifest on our plane with only the fragmented memory of Dawn Summers to keep it from annihilating us all."

Xander blanched. "Either way we'll need to hurry."

0oooo0oooo0

Jonathan was still quite nervous when the group pulled up short of the warehouse. Everyone but he, Willow, and Tara were armed. Of course, he was more armed than he appeared to be, and the other two certainly were, but there was something comforting about cradling a shotgun or giant axe. It had a kind of... solidity that his magic lacked.

"All right," Xander said carefully. He pulled out the map that Fred had dug up of the warehouse in question. He ran his fingers over the various exits. "Okay, me and Anya will take this exit, Fred and Jonathan, you'll be over here. Willow, you and Tara will be heading in the front door. You're our heavy hitter here. You keep 'em busy while the rest of us go in there and take the place down. Just like the A-Team."

"Only with less bling," Anya said with a half frown/half smile.

"There's something else," Willow said. "If they're trying to bind her or alter the spells that keep her around, I can repair them if they aren't too far gone. But I'm going to need time to do it."

"Do we have any idea what would happen if her binding spells were really released?" Jonathan asked. Willow pursed her lips in consternation.

"No, not really, but I'm betting it would be bad. You know with lot's of bold lettering and everything," she stated. Jonathan looked down at his hands.

"Okay, I'm ready," Anya stated. "Besides the longer we sit, the more likely something bad will happen. Come on lover, let's go shoot some people."

Tara looked decidedly queasy. Disregarding his own deep discomfort, Jonathan reached out and touched her knee. "You okay?"

She shook her head. "I hate hurting people."

"I don't like it either really," Jonathan said with a sympathetic look. The two of them got out behind a Willow that was giving him a death glare and a downcast and thoughtful looking Fred. "But who's going to take your place?"

There was a sound of steel being buried in asphalt. All of them looked over to see Mr. Wink standing with his cleaver buried three inches into the blacktop. He made a strange snuffling sound and Xander smirked and shot the troll a thumb's up.

"Ask and ye shall receive," Xander crowed.

0oooo0oooo0

They weren't even listening anymore. They just went about their preparations with a professional air that made her feel extremely worried. An entire team of magi of some sort sat down around the circle. They were still for a few minutes, but when they began their chant she could feel it. Like something moving beneath her skin, with a sensation of rubber being pulled off of a mold. Out of her control her hair and eyes began to stream light. Ezekiel and his companion that they called Sarah were watching the proceedings with a careful eye.

Dawn felt her desperation rising. "Please."

If anything the chanting grew louder. Her control over her own motor functions was falling fast. She slumped over and put her hands on the cool concrete as molten fire moved under her skin. An incredible bang and a roar that Dawn knew well caused her to lift her head and smile weakly.

Mr. Wink – always dependable. Ezekiel made a single motion to Sarah who took off at a run, picking up a gnarled looking staff that had been laid against the wall. Then IT was passing through her, making rational thought incredibly difficult. Too much. They didn't understand. How could she make them understand?

Before it was too late?

0oooo0oooo0

Jonathan smashed the door in and ran for the center of the warehouse. They knew Dawn was in one of the side rooms. He ran, loosening his bag. He could feel the power in the air. As a man who specialized in infernalism, he was very aware of the feel of the energy in the air. However he'd never felt _anything_ like this much power before.

Fred was beside him, her shotgun blazing as it caught one man. He fell pole-axed by the injector round that filled his system with paralytic toxins. Another man tumbled out from behind a pillar, surprising Fred, Jonathan, and himself equally. Jonathan was the first to recover, and he made a sweeping gesture in front of him.

"Israfel" he called out. "Strike!"

A shimmer like summer heat sprang up in front of the unfortunate man, and hurled him aside like a toy. He hit one of the concrete pillars of the warehouse and fell to the ground with an almost sickening thud. The shimmer hovered over the fallen man for a moment before returning to Jonathan's side. Jonathan put the inscribed silver star of David back into his bag and kept running. That was all he was going to get out of Israfel for today, that was sure. Angels were picky that way.

Fred gave him a respectful nod and then the two of them set off into the chaos again. However, it was confusing and awkward; they were separated in the melee that had developed. He wasn't really aware of everything that was going on around him. The power humming through the air was distracting him too much.

He caught brief snippets of the battle. Mr. Wink and Willow driving away another witch, who threw around just as much power as Willow was, and with better aim. However, fighting a powerful witch and a rampaging troll at once seemed to have been her limit. She vanished. Xander and Anya were... well killing their way through. He didn't really see them, but he heard them. Everyone was ignoring the short harmless looking guy though.

And so when he found himself at a door and yanked it open, he was confronted with something unlike anything he'd ever seen before in his life.

He could see Aurora's outline kneeling on the floor, but she was almost entirely white light now. She was surrounded by chanting figures that seemed to be swaying under the strain. Another man stood in the corner, his features hidden by the light.

Then she looked over at him, at his stunned face, and he could see the barest hints of distinct features. He would never forget the words and raw terror in them for the rest of his life.

"Please," she said. It was piteous. "I don't want to go."

He didn't know what to do; he couldn't even understand what he was seeing. Then everything went bad. Fast.

There was a snap, and the form was completely gone. He watched in awe as the magi holding her in place just combusted, becoming swirling ash in an instant. And within the light, he could just barely make out...

YECHEZKEL. TWICE HAS A MAN OF THAT NAME SEEN MY FACE. THE FIRST WAS DRIVEN MAD BY IT FOR A TIME. HOW WILL FARE THE SECOND?

IT was there... power, so much power. The kind that destroyed cities, leveled nations. And Jonathan understood as he gazed upon IT just how incredible the work of the Monks of Dagon must have been. The scale; it was beyond human reckoning. And it was going to kill them, he realized.

Jonathan was a young man who possessed many excellent qualities. He was a genius at geometry, though he applied himself poorly. He had a true talent for the magical arts, a rare ceremonial magician in an age of free form and dangerous chaotic ways. But he was not a brave man. Which was why he surprised himself by moving.

Aramaic tumbled off his tongue and he reached within and through himself, to the source of his abilities; those things that had driven his life from the very first day. He slammed his fist into the ground so hard he broke a knuckle doing it. Shape and form played before his racing mind; patterns inherent in the universe locking into place like tumblers of a lock. The code of the First Will. And though he was but a man, for a moment he reached the sublime.

The tree of the Sephirot sprang into existence, hundreds of binding circles composed of hair thin tracery of blue light interposing themselves between IT and Jonathan and the other man, who was kneeling with his arms slack at his sides, tears streaming from his face. Despite himself, Jonathan looked IT in the eye, his bindings flaring. He felt the drain of power he had never dreamed of wielding as IT looked upon the being who would _dare_ impede ITS progress.

A MORTAL.

Jonathan could feel himself sagging, but he grit his teeth. "Yes."

YOU DO NOT COME TO IMPRISON US, THOUGH YOU STAND IN OUR PATH.

WHY?

"To save a girl who deserves to live," Jonathan gasped.

AH YES. THE CONSTRUCT. FASCINATING. WHY?

And he truly thought about it. Why? He stared into IT and he could feel blood running down his nose. She had threatened to kill him, and now it looked like she would get her wish. Yet... he saw what she was to Fred, even her kindness to him, a man who probably deserved none. Fred looked at her the same way he looked at Fred. And that he could understand. Besides, he'd promised.

"Because Aurora saved her and she saved me," Jonathan said. "Because saving people is what she does. And the world doesn't have enough of that."

YOU ARE DYING. YOU WOULD DIE FOR THE SAKE OF THIS CONSTRUCT?

He thought about it, even as he knew that IT spoke the truth. Would he die? He would if he remained. But Willow was out there; and she could feel this. Anyone in a mile could probably feel this without magic at all. Somehow he knew that she was working frantically. There was a crackling in the air that belonged to neither his workings or IT. The question was really how long? How long could little Jonathon hold out? Allowing his head to sag a little, he thought about everything he'd ever done, everything he might have done. He finally understood what a life flashing before your eyes meant. He looked back into IT.

"Yes. Couldn't think of a better way to go honestly."

IT strained against his barrier, and then suddenly a blade of light speared through. Unthinking Jonathan raised his hand and shoved back against the light. IT burned his hand, his skin, but he held on even as his right hand began to smoke. But... he could use this, he realized. Right hand to draw, left hand to push.

He twisted the pure divine power of IT through his body and redirected it outwards. There was something; a harmony, a perfect song, and he used that perfected awareness to craft the greatest seal of his life. An impossibly perfect Seal of Solomon sliced the appendage off like a razor blade as it shimmered into existence between them, and the interlocking multidimensional wall of seals was intact once more. God, he'd always wanted to say it; what the hell?

Jonathan Levinson smiled as blood trailed out of his nose. "I am a servant of the Secret Fire, wielder of the flame of Anor. You. Shall Not. Pass."

IT pulled back, mustering power and pressure for a single, fatal strike. He had the sense that he could have died in that moment, but he felt the pressure come down, coil upon coil. Something... something was working to contain IT. He could feel it, magic that was black and earthy and primal. The darkness constricted around IT, like the pressure of a constricting snake's coils. Slowly the light dimmed, and Jonathan stumbled forward just in time to catch a very nude Aurora. He looked down at her with uncomprehending eyes for a moment.

The door behind him slammed causing him to look up. The woman who had been fighting Willow and Wink was there. She ignored him and ran over to the white haired man. She yelled at him, picking him up and his rifle too. But the white haired man had eyes only for Jonathan. Those blue eyes burned; burned with a shared knowledge that no other human being on the planet could boast. Both of them knew; knew deep down just what it was they had seen. The white haired man nodded and the pair vanished into sparkles of light.

"Jonathan!" Fred yelled, coming up the stairs. He turned to look at her, still in a stupor. She stopped cold. "Jonathan... you're bleeding. And your hair."

"Schedule me a stylist then," Jonathan said. And then, very carefully, he eased Aurora into his arms and leaned back on the concrete floor. Closest he'd ever been to a naked woman in his life, and here he was too blasted to even care. At least he passed out with a smile on his face.

0oooo0oooo0

"Hey," Jonathan said. Mr. Wink looked down at him, the height difference making Mr. Wink crane his thick neck. The troll gave him a deferential nod.

Anyone who saw him even a few hours earlier would not have recognized him. His eyes, always blue, were now like chips of bluish ice; the eyes of an arctic wolf. His hair, once black and sleek, was now brilliantly white, bleached from channeling powers that by all rights should have killed him. But that wasn't the real change. He was less furtive, less worried. There was a calm to him that made Fred curious and completely boggled Andrew's mind.

Jonathan stood straighter and carried himself with a confidence that had been earned in pain and on the field of conflict. He looked... more grown up, seeming taller than his meager 5'7". He just filled the space around him as though his spirit were far bigger than his body.

"Can... can I go in and sit with her for a little while?" Jonathan asked. Before he wouldn't even have dared, but now his crystal blue eyes met Mr. Wink's without so much as a flinch. Mr. Wink nodded again, slowly, and opened the door for him.

Carefully he walked into Aurora's apartment. Mr. Wink had been incredibly defensive once they'd brought her back to the building. He would let Fred go in and check on her, but no one else had been allowed in yet. Jonathan was the first. She was laying underneath the sheets of her bed, slightly pale, but looking much better than she had when he'd seen her six hours ago.

He quietly pulled up a chair and sat down next to her bed, watching her breathing, the steady rise and fall of her chest. His eyes flicked to the palm of her right hand, which was resting facing up on top of the sheets, and he blinked. He held up his right hand and compared the scar from his spell; the spell which had cut the Greater Seal of Solomon into his hand with a mechanical precision. The same seal was now cut into Aurora's hand.

"I..." he began. He paused for a moment. "I'm sorry I hurt you. But I had to. I couldn't let you just run out there and kill everyone, no matter how much they deserved it."

Jonathan took a shaky breath and ran a hand through hair. He laughed a little. "And now I have absolutely no idea what to say. You're something else, you know that? And now I really understand what it was I saw when Warren hit you with that sigil. I... I guess I realized today that I don't really know you at all. But I'd like to maybe get coffee sometime or something. You've; you've got a lot on your shoulders."

He shook his head at his own voice. "No wonder girls won't give me the time of day. I can't even talk to them while they're in a coma. Look, I really just wanted to say that I'm sorry for all the trouble I caused you. And I'm glad you're here. Fred needs you. I think we all need you."

"That's touching dude, really."

Jonathan nearly jumped out of his skin. He whirled around angry to look at Andrew. "How the hell did you get in here?"

"A little 'not notice me' spell that Willow taught me," Andrew said smugly. "Works pretty well doesn't it? Who needs a Romulan cloaking device now?"

"Dor-sho-ga!" Jonathan spat. Andrew winced away from him.

"Geeze," Andrew stated. "No need to get testy."

"Look, why are you here?" Jonathan asked with a sour expression. Andrew shifted a little from foot to foot.

"Well... I kind of wanted to know what happened in there," Andrew said after a moment. "I mean, you haven't really said anything to anyone about it yet. And I'm just worried about my old buddy; that's all. So what happened?"

"I don't even really know," Jonathan said after a long pause.

"Try me," Andrew said, leaning forward with a supportive expression on his face. Jonathan sighed.

"Alright," Jonathan gritted out. "Listen then..."

0oooo0oooo0

Sarah knelt down next to Ezekiel and rubbed his lank hair out of his face. "Are you okay?"

Ezekiel turned his uncomprehending eyes to Sarah and blinked once or twice before finally coming back to himself.

"I am about as far from okay as I can be Sarah," he said. She nibbled her bottom lip in a frown as Ezekiel shook his head.

"We made a mistake here," Ezekiel said. "And we payed the price for that ignorance. Entire team dead; that just ain't kosher. But I'm gonna put some pressure on the Grandmasters for this. This is something we outta have known."

"What is?"

"That Dawn Summers," Ezekiel shook his head. "She ain't an artifact like the old texts say. She's something else entirely, which means she ain't our problem anymore. I figure anyone screws with that girl, they get what they deserve. We sure as hell did."

Sarah sat back on the hardwood floor of the safe house they were in. It would do until they got back to their L.A. Headquarters for the debrief. They'd probably have to fly to Athens in order to talk to the people they needed to talk to.

"What is she then?" Sarah asked with a growl of frustration. "What the hell are we going to tell the Grandmasters?"

"The truth," Ezekiel said with an expression of haunted sarcasm. "The kinds of things they don't like to hear; but I know what I'm gonna tell them. 'Like the appearance of the rainbow that is in the cloud on a rainy day; so was the appearance of the brightness round about; that was the appearance of the likeness of the glory of the Lord, and when I saw, I fell on my face, and I heard a voice speaking...;'"

0oooo0oooo0

"... and He said to me; 'Son of Man, stand on your feet, and I shall speak with you.' Now the spirit entered me when He spoke to me and it stood me on my feet, and I heard what was being spoken to me."

Jonathan finished speaking and his gaze was turned towards the rising sun that he could see out of the far window of Aurora's apartment. A soft rustling sound, drew his attention. She was shifting in her sleep. He instinctively reached over and touched Aurora's hand with gentle care and she stilled.

"What was that?" Andrew pressed. Jonathan looked up from Dawn's sleeping body and blinked at Andrew.

"Ezekiel, Chapter 1 and the beginning of Chapter 2," Jonathan said. "It; it was the best thing I could think of."

"I'm not sure I understand though," Andrew said with a small frown. "I'm not much of a biblical scholar. I mean, most of that was a description of something that sounds indescribable. Is there any other way you can explain it?"

Jonathan took a deep breath and turned to Andrew with a shake of his head. "Fine, how's this? 'I have passed through fire and deep water, since we parted. I have forgotten much that I thought I knew, and learned again much that I had forgotten.'"

Andrew went visibly paler. "You're..."

"...Absolutely not kidding," Jonathan said, and his gaze was molten blue fire. "How's that for perspective?"

Andrew had no pithy response, no witticism. Jonathan's words shook him in a place that Andrew rarely payed attention to. Jonathan shrugged in apathy when Andrew left with excuses of work that needed to be done. Truth be told, he was tired of the questions, and that quotation would keep Andrew thinking for days.

"That's the second Gandalf quote you used in eight hours," a rough voice said. Jonathan started with a small squeak and turned to see that Dawn's grass green eyes were focused on him with an uncomfortable intensity.

"How much of that did you hear?" Jonathan hazarded in a somewhat frightened tone.

"Enough," she said. She sat up a little, adjusting her baggy night shirt and looking at him with groggy eyes.

"How are you feeling?" Jonathan asked. There was an almost desperate plea that was left unspoken.

"Like someone branded my hand with a Seal of Solomon," she stated. He started to panic, but he realized she was smiling at him.

"You remember that too?" Jonathan's voice was now almost a fifth higher than it had been at the beginning of the conversation. Dawn just nodded at him.

"That was a brave thing you did," Dawn said after a second. "I don't know many people who would have been able to face what you did. I'm not sure I could do it."

"I promised her I'd keep you safe," Jonathan said. Dawn raised a sleepy eyebrow.

"Fred?"

Jonathan nodded. "I made a promise and..."

"You kept it more than you know," Dawn said. She paused for a moment. "Or maybe you really do know. Anyway, thank you Jonathan; and I accept your apology."

She fell back into her bed and the silence stretched out. Jonathan fidgeted for almost a whole minute before springing to his feet.

"Well, I'll get going then," he said. "I'll let Fred know you're up and moving,"

Dawn nodded, but didn't say anything further until Jonathan's hand was on the doorknob.

"Thursday at 3:00 pm."

Jonathan stopped and blinked. He turned to look at her over his shoulder. "I'm sorry?"

"Coffee," Dawn said with a mischievous smirk. "Just you and me. You game?"

"Yeah," Jonathan said, sounding surprised with himself. "Yeah, I really am."

Dawn gave him a brilliant smile. "Excellent. Now excuse me while I pass out for another few hours. It's been a long day."Dawn Summers fell back into a dreamless sleep, and for the first time in more than a year there were no nightmares or stress induced visions of madness. Just soft dark and comforting sleep. She didn't wake when Willow entered the room some hours later; but if she had seen the incredibly satisfied expression on the red head's face, she would have felt a stab of fear, for the witch was smiling like a cat with a cornered canary.

"Threaten me again," Willow whispered. "And I'll be sure you won't hurt anybody ever again. You butt is mine missy, whether you know it or not."


	14. Chapter 13 Fredless

Disclaimer: Hellboy is the property of Dark Horse Comics and Mike Mignola. Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel are both the property of Mutant Enemy and their affiliates. Lord of War is the property of Lionsgate Films. I own none of the above, and am writing this neither for commercial distribution nor profit. If they so require I will take this down whenever they ask. Original Characters are my property and may be used only with permission. Seriously folks, all you have to do is ask. I'm writing Fanfiction for crying out loud.

13. Fredless

"And that's the last freaking time I _ever_ go to North Dakota!" Buffy exclaimed as she walked through the front door of Slade Summers and Associates. The bag she had slung easily over her back she let fall to the tiled floor. Behind the front desk Tara perked up and smiled at Buffy.

"Buffy," Tara said. "You're back!"

"Yes ma'am," Buffy said. "Back and better than ever. Oh thank _God_! Real coffee again! Mochas; how I've missed you!"

Behind her Liz Sherman walked in, giving Buffy an amused look. "I think we broke her."

"Liz," Tara said in a more subdued voice. "What are you doing here?"

"This is my new station, apparently," Liz said with a shrug. "Manning put me and my usual strike team in Sunnydale. Turns out this happens to be a good spot to cover the western side of the Continental Divide. Plus, we get enough monsters wandering into town that it'll keep _all_ of us busy. So here I am. You'll be seeing a lot more of me in the future."

Tara picked up a phone and muttered into it while Liz turned to Buffy with a smile. "Well this is where I guess we get going. I'll be seeing you around."

"Stay for coffee," interjected a deep woman's voice. "After all, you could probably always use some."

"Dawn," Liz said, tilting her head to the side in acknowledgment. Dawn stood in the doorway, flanked by a guy with white hair that she thought was familiar, and Fred the scientist.

"Liz," Dawn replied. She walked up and snagged Buffy into a hug. "Mind if I borrow her for a sec? There's a few things I want to talk about."

"Just return her unbroken," Liz said with a grin. "The Government has needs."

"I'm sure," Dawn said tugging on Buffy's arm. However the very level gaze and extremely evil smirk that Buffy couldn't see caused Liz to turn slightly red.

"Why don't you sit down?" the white haired guy offered, as he brought over a coffee mug and sat it down on one of the foyer coffee tables. Liz sauntered over and kicked her feet up. The white haired guy extended a hand, which she took. "Jonathan Levinson."

"Liz Sherman," she replied. She gave him a careful look. "You used to have black hair didn't you?"

"Yup," Jonathan said. "Had a life changing experience you could say. Anyhow, I hope you enjoy the coffee."

Liz knew an evasion when she heard one, but shrugged it off and took a sip. To her utter delight it really was good. She took a fuller drink and shot Jonathan a sunny smile and a thumb's up.

"So, everything was okay?" Fred asked, joining them in the circle of sinfully comfy chairs.

"Pretty much," Liz said. "I was the only one Buffy really wanted to talk to the entire trip. We compared miserable lives. Last I checked I was ahead ten to eight."

"I don't even want to know what you were measuring," Jonathan said. He leaned back in his chair. "So Director Manning has you assigned here for the immediate future?"

"There's enough weird here to keep an entire bureau branch pretty busy 24/7," Liz said. "They're actually moving the L.A. Branch out here now. I'll be the 'special talents' liaison there. I gotta say, has a lot of perks over the completely abandoned slopes of Colorado."

The door opened again and the Jackals walked in looking slightly bedraggled but otherwise none the worse for wear. They were followed by a tall and handsome man with black hair and pale skin. Someone she'd never met before. However Fred made a squeaking sound and jumped to her feet.

"Angel!" she said. Liz blinked. Angel... this was_ that_ Angel? Fred ran over to him and wrapped him up in a big which he returned. Separating she held him away from herself. "How are you doing?"

"Not so great, actually," Angel said. He looked like a tired man. "We had a very unexpected visitor. And it's gotten... complicated now."

"Oh!" Fred said, leaning back. "Well come on and sit down for a minute. At least have some coffee before you go, would you? I know it's a long drive."

"All right," Angel acquiesced. From Fred's concerned expression she was expecting a heck of a lot more fight out of him. Instead he just collapsed into the seat next to Liz and looked over at her. Both Fred and Jonathan left, on a search for more coffee cups. After sitting staring at the tabletop in front of him, the man turned to Liz and inclined his head respectfully. "I don't believe we were introduced. My name is Angel."

"Liz," she said. She was trying hard to keep her dislike out of her voice, but the strained expression on Angel's face told her that she wasn't succeeding.

"So, do I know you?" he asked with eyes narrowed in concentration. "Because you seem to be putting off a lot of hate and I'm pretty sure I never did anything to you."

"No, I guess you don't know me," Liz said. She gave him a cold smile. "But I know you. I'm a good friend of Buffy's actually. Been working with her for the past three weeks."

"Oh," Angel said. He hesitated for a moment. "You know about us don't you?"

"Yup," Liz said. She leaned forward. "Try not to screw with her head here, okay? I know you try to be a good guy and do the right thing. I appreciate that, I really do. But I can blow things up by looking at them hard. Including shitty vampire ex-boyfriends."

Liz called up a reddish orange flame to cover her arm and she smirked as Angel flinched away. Tara was watching them very carefully, but only Liz could see the very satisfied expression that Tara was shooting her. The door opened and Liz instantly banished the flame. Fred came out, looking over her shoulder with a worried expression.

She came over to the coffee table and put down a tray that had a cup of very black looking coffee and sidled over a bit. Jonathan followed at that point, almost scurrying and looking over his shoulder. He looked over at Angel with a panicked expression.

"How the heck did you do it?" he asked. Angel blinked.

"What?"

"How the heck did you date a Summers woman?" Jonathan asked. "They're freaking _scary._ And they're still arguing now!"

"... We're not even _dating,_" Dawn's voice preceded her. She stalked into the room, her long hair flying behind her. "We're just going to get some coffee tomorrow afternoon. What the hell?"

Dawn stopped and looked at Angel. Dawn had an expression of growing horror, and her voice was just a whisper. "Oh fuck."

"He's too old for you," Buffy called after her in a commandeering voice. "I mean it's just that I don't want any..."

Buffy never really did finish her thought. She just stopped and looked at Angel. There was a long and extremely awkward looking pause.

"So," Angel managed after nearly a minute of silence. "You're back."

"Yeah," Buffy said.

"I'm glad," Angel said. Buffy nodded.

"Thanks."

The silence stretched out until Fred gave a bright and extremely nervous looking smile. "Right then. Well, Angel and I have some things to talk about. Come on this way; tell me how y'all are getting along without little ol' me."

She grabbed Angel and dragged him into the back; towards the labs if Liz's guess was right. Dawn and Jonathan shared a look and as one turned to her with a pleading expression. Liz looked at Buffy, who hadn't shifted her gaze from where Angel had been sitting. Slowly, she got up and walked over to Buffy.

"Hey," Liz said. She reached out very carefully and pulled Buffy into a hug. She was expecting Buffy to just stand there; so she was surprised by the strength of Buffy's hug. It was like a vice grip.

"Nothing," Buffy whispered into Liz's shoulder. "There was... nothing."

"Nothing?" Liz asked. She leaned back to tilt Buffy's head up so their eyes met. "What do you mean nothing?"

"There used to be... sparks," Buffy laughed a little manic laugh. "Something between us; a connection that didn't need words, you know? Like we were just... together somehow. But now there's just... nothing."

Liz curled Buffy into her arms and the two of them just stood there for a long time. Dawn and Jonathan had disappeared sometime in the last few minutes. Finally Buffy gave another of those scary laughs.

"I'm sorry," Buffy said in hopeless voice. "I just wasn't expecting..."

"It's fine," Liz said, wondering to herself when _she'd_ become the stable one. "Now come on, grab your coat and we'll go get one of those mochas you were complaining about for the last week."

Buffy left under her own power and Liz stared after her for a moment. She hoped that this wasn't going to last too long. 'Catatonic Buffy' scared Liz more than she really wanted to admit. She was pulled from her reverie by a quiet voice.

"T-that was really kind of you," Tara said. She had a sad little smile. "I think that Buffy doesn't really have anyone to talk to about these kinds of things. Or anyone who'll just hug her like that. Also that sticking up for her thing was really cute."

"Just doing what I felt like I should," Liz said. Tara shook her head.

"Defending your girl huh?" Tara asked, her smile becoming lopsided and her eyes knowing. Liz completely missed it.

"Pretty much," Liz said. "She needs more right now than lousy ex boyfriends showing up to confuse her."

"Been there," Tara said, and this time Liz looked at her with wide eyed surprise. Tara continued on, looking down at her keyboard to hide her smirk. "I know what it's like sticking up for your lady. Happens to all of us sometimes."

"That's not what I..." Liz began. She trailed off as she tried to formulated the words that she wanted.

"I think it is," Tara said. She looked up and this time the blonde's expression was grave. "But you think whatever you want. Just take care of her tonight, okay?"

"Alright," Liz said. She looked down at her hands, and her face was set in deep thought.

0oooo0oooo0

Winnifred Burkle had regained a semblance of sanity in the three months that she had been with Aurora. However no one was more aware of how superficial these strides towards normalcy were than Fred herself. She could feel herself slipping, feel the walls closing in on her. Every once in a while she would wonder when she dreamed of her cave whether this place was real or whether she was just so far gone that the dreams she had seemed so much more real than the cave.

But this one; this was almost too surreal to be anything other than real. If that made any damn sense.

Buffy stood in the lobby, walking out with Liz towards god knows where. Fred hoped that Liz could calm Buffy down a little. She looked like she was a few seconds away from a complete shutdown. She'd just escorted Angel out the back after he'd conferred with Aurora about something.

After Buffy and Liz left, Aurora and Jonathan seemed to materialize out of somewhere with slightly concerned expressions. The two of them looked at Fred who shrugged a little.

"I don't have anything quite like that..." Fred said. She stopped when a scruffy looking man walked in the front door.

"Delivery for Burkle?" he asked. Fred blinked and suddenly her expression brightened. She nodded.

"Just bring it right around back," Fred said. It turned out that was wise. The stack of extremely nondescript wooden crates were piled up several feet high. With Xander and the Jackal's help it didn't take nearly as long as Dawn had thought that it would. But whatever was in them was really heavy. Even the Jackals had to use pallet jacks to move the things around.

The only odd thing was that the driver requested no form of return receipt and was quite eager to get the heck out of there. Dawn gave the driver a strange look as he pulled away, while Fred took out her crowbar and began to attack the crate with a single minded ferocity.

After standing and watching for a moment, Dawn walked over and green light flared over her arm. The crowbar bit deep into the nailed lid of the crate and the top popped open. Fred beamed. Xander's jaw dropped in a way that Dawn had only seen once- when she'd saved him from a rampaging demon biker. He looked up at Fred, all his confusion focused into a single word.

"How?"

Fred blinked, and the Jackals crowded around and looked at the disassembled pieces of metal that Dawn couldn't really make heads or tails of. As one they looked up at her with shock on their features.

"What?" Dawn asked, looking from shocked face to shocked face. "What's the big deal?"

"This..." Xander trailed off. He cleared his throat loudly. "Er... Dawn, let me introduce you to an old personal friend of the United States Military, the single longest serving weapon if my memories are right. The Browning Ma Deuce."

The disassembled thing was big, Dawn thought. Very big. "What is this thing?"

"Something you use to blow up cars and cut people in half," Xander said. Tor nodded.

"Yeah," he said. "Never used one myself, but I saw a guy in Afghanistan get clipped by one. It was... ugly."

"So; that's a good thing, right?" Dawn asked. Jonathan walked up to her shoulder and peered into the crate.

"Well, yes in the demon-killing sense of the word," Xander hedged. He shot a sideways look at Fred, and Dawn caught the combination of disbelief and fear in his eyes. "But not so much in the 'breaking the law and getting us all thrown in a really dark hole for a thousand years' kind of thing. Maybe not so much trouble for you Dawn-patrol, but for the rest of us it's kind of an issue."

"Just how illegal is this thing?" Dawn prompted carefully.

"About as illegal as you can get without driving an Abrams down main street," Xander winced. Dawn blinked.

"A battle tank," Jonathan offered helpfully. Dawn shot him a scathing glare, and he made a squeaking sound and backed off. Dawn turned back to Fred, looking like she was thinking _very_ hard.

"Fred," she asked in a slow and placating voice. "How did you get the nice anti vehicle gun thingy?"

"Well," Fred stated, looking around in a nervous and jerky fashion. "I have this uncle who was in the export business, I guess you could say. Momma's sister was really pretty, and uncle Yuri married her. Of course, when he got thrown in jail for arms dealing she kind of left him, but he always had a sweet spot for me. Said I was the smartest of the bunch and that I'd be someone some day. I might have maybe mentioned that we _might_ need something pretty heavy. He told me he'd send what he could- something about a Nicaraguan deal gone bad. Anyway, so here we are!"

Fred finished brightly, but Xander's face was clouded.

"Yuri, the buddy of Andre fucking Baptiste 'Lord of War' Orlov is your uncle?" Xander's voice was nearly a high pitched squeak.

"Oh!" Anya said, snapping her fingers. "Now I remember! Yeah, he's a total monster. Had a backlog on him. Halfrek was going to be on that one. He's really your uncle?"

"Er, yes?" Fred offered hopefully.

"Is that bad?" Jonathan asked.

"Bad?" Xander exclaimed. "Bad? No, bad is buying rusted AK-47s from disreputable survivalists. This is fucking catastrophic! If these ever get used we won't ever see the light of day again..."

"You told me to take care of it," Fred stated. Her voice and body were shaking, but her eyes were bright. "And; and I did it! I was trying to help you!"

"Well, I think we could use a little less 'help' like this," Xander ran his hand through his hair. "What's in the rest of it?"

"M-14s, ammunition, some maintenance equipment, loaders," Fred rattled off. "Two more M-2's and mounting gear. I was going to convert that one into..."

"Not now Fred," Dawn said in a cold voice. Fred blinked.

"But you said..." Fred began, and Dawn made a slicing gesture with her hand.

"I expected you to use a _sliver_ of common sense Fred," Dawn's voice became like icy steel. "Not... this. God. Xander, Tor, Heidi, Kyle, Rhonda, get this stuff to the basement. We'll figure out what to do with it."

"Yes boss," Tor said, flipping her a small salute. Dawn nodded and whirled around to face Fred. Her face was flat and pale.

"I'm not going to ask what you were thinking when you did this," Dawn said. "But I am _not_ happy with you right now."

Dawn walked out of the room without looking back. Jonathan walked over to Fred, who stood dumbstruck, placing a tentative hand on her shoulder.

"I did what they asked me to do..." Fred said again in a tiny voice. "Why are they so mad?"

"You surprised them Doc Burkle," Jonathan said. "And you didn't even tell them why you got the heavier stuff. I mean, the concept is..."

"They don't want to hear it," Fred shook her head. "They don't understand anything I do! They don't care if I just disappeared."

"But I care," Jonathan said. He squeezed her shoulder. "You're the smartest woman I know. You're my boss, and... and my friend."

"Never matters though, does it?" Fred mumbled. She pulled away from him. "I'm going to finish the last workup on the Mark I. Don't be bothering me unless you have to."

0oooo0oooo0

There was a scrabbling sound down the dark alleyway. A desperate looking vampire was running from something in the alleyway. He almost made it out the shadow completely when something long and black punched through his chest from behind. With a pitiful scream the vampire was dragged back into shadow.

The scream cut off abruptly with wet crunching noises, then the telltale release of energy that accompanied a vampire dusting. Silence descended upon the shattered warehouse where one of the world-shattering Seraphim had been pulled through into this reality.

Slowly a huge clawed foot left the shadow, connecting to an equally huge exo-skeleton covered leg. With a hiss that sounded like a boiler casing exploding, the creature returned to its nest. For tonight at least.

0oooo0oooo0

Faith never wondered if there was a God. She had no crises of faith. She knew there was a God; and she knew that God hated her. That was really the only explanation for her life. She'd had a lot of time in prison to think on the matter, and to some degree she'd genuinely made her peace with that.

At times though that peace was tenuous at best. Such as when a ten foot tall red skinned demon who made her Slayer sense scream like a tortured opera singer on LSD stopped by to chat every night after lights out; and not a damn soul noticed. For all that he was as down to earth a guy as she'd ever met. No pretention, no 'I am the doom of the world' or any BS like that. He was smart, but he talked like she did; straightforward and to the point.

"So, you're telling me you can just spring me from this joint anytime you want?" she asked. The huge demon leaning against her cell block wall nodded.

"Yup," he said. He reached into his jacket and pulled out a pack of Marlboro Reds. "Cigarette?"

"Thanks," Faith took one with a grateful smirk. Hellboy's lighter flared in the darkness and both of them puffed on their respective tobacco. In Hellboy's huge hands, the cigar looked like a slender débutante's cigarette. "Perks of working for the Feds, huh?"

"About the only one," Hellboy muttered around his cigar. "But yeah. One phone call and Manning would probably just spring you. No fuss, no muss. He's too damn scared of me to do anything else. That cell; it ain't rated for someone like you."

It was a statement of fact, not a question. She'd found her nightly visitor asked very few questions by and large. He still managed to find out all kinds of things he shouldn't know though.

"Well I could just break out of here," Faith stated.

"Then why you still here serving time?" Hellboy asked. Those glowing yellow eyes really did a number on you if you looked into them too long, Faith realized. Must be that 'no pupil' thing.

"'Cause it's the right thing to do," Faith said. She took a deep drag from her cigarette and leaned against the wall. Her eyes were unfocused, staring into space as she remembered everything leading up to her confession. "And I ain't never done the right thing until this. Didn't really think I could."

Hellboy nodded. He looked thoughtful. "You know, I have a complicated past."

"No shit," Faith laughed. "A freakin' demon that works for the Feds?"

"You have no idea," Hellboy said. There were few things that Faith could say honestly scared her. But the tone in Hellboy's voice was one; it sent shivers down her spine- there was an absolute certainty in his voice that made her wonder not for the first time just _what_ exactly he was. "But you're side tracking me. What I was gonna say was this; you got this redemption kick going, right? Just like I decided to leave the Bureau, find some answers about myself. Thing is, you gotta ask yourself a question. Where are you doing the most good?"

"Huh?" Faith asked. Hellboy stood up straight, away from the wall.

"See me," Hellboy said, blowing a picture perfect smoke ring. "I knew that working for the Bureau was just me puttin' off things I needed to do and things I needed to find. It was a way for me to do good. But it wasn't what I needed. Way I see you here? You think you're in here 'cause you need to be. 'Cause it's what you deserve. And maybe that's true; but you aren't a normal girl. You're the Slayer. Best way you can serve your penance? You go out there and hit those things that need hitting."

Faith watched her cigarette smolder in the dark for a long time. Finally she laughed a little and looked over at her demon interlocutor. "Yeah, that's fine, if you trust yourself. I dunno, but I figure if I get out there, am I gonna just do the same things that left me in here?"

"If you're still wondering that," Hellboy countered. "Then you really won't."

"I don't deserve to be out there," Faith almost yelled at him. "I'm a fucking murderer!"

"And?" Hellboy asked with a single raised eyebrow. "Worse than you have turned their lives around. Every minute you're in here, there're people out there that need help."

Faith was silent, and Hellboy turned to walk away.

"Just you think on what I offered you Faith," he said. "You stay in there, you rot. You get out? You might just get that redemption you were looking for. Your choice."

"Hey," Faith said at his retreating back. Hellboy stopped and looked over his shoulder. "Thanks for the cig."

"Anytime," Hellboy said. "Anytime."

The Faith was left alone, with only her thoughts and a demon's words on redemption to keep her company. Yup, she thought. God hated her.

0oooo0oooo0

"So..." Jonathan said. He sat across from Dawn at the Espresso Pump, holding his decaf non-fat mocha in one hand and a bran muffin in another. Thursday had finally come. Jonathan couldn't tell whether it was a crawl or a race. The pace of time had seemed to vary from moment to moment. But here he was. On his very first real date. Talking about another woman; the irony. "You still mad at the Doc?"

"Who?" Dawn said, looking irritable. She shook her head and frowned. "You mean Fred?"

"Of course I mean Fred," Jonathan stated. He allowed some of his concern to show through. "Who the heck else would I mean? She was really torn up about last night."

"She should be!" Dawn nearly shouted. Seeing that she was drawing looks from the rest of the crowd, she quieted down. "Look... you saw the... stuff she brought in. She has to be crazy!"

Jonathan looked at Dawn with a speculative expression. "Aurora, Fred _is_ crazy."

"What?" Dawn asked, thrown by Jonathan's words. Jonathan shook his head.

"Look, she's been through a lot," he said, spreading his hands. "And I don't think she ever really got over a lot of it. She's been focusing on helping you so much, she hasn't been working through it. I think she's in a lot of pain, and you getting angry with her... it crushed her a bit."

Dawn bit her lip, and shook her head. She thought of the Fred she'd met at the Hyperion, so different from her Fred. Dawn wondered if those changes weren't as certain as she had hoped. She still remembered Fred's walls from her room in L.A.. "Maybe... Maybe you're right. I'll apologize for yelling at her when I get back. But, leave it for now."

"Thanks Aurora!" Jonathan beamed. "You're the best."

"I know," Dawn said with a smile. "And humble too. But I don't want to just talk about Fred."

"Me either," Jonathan said. Dawn grinned and leaned back in her chair.

"So tell me a little about Mr. Levinson," she said in a teasing voice. "Since our little... intimate encounter showed you a lot about me."

"Er, right!" Jonathan said, looking nervous. "Well, I used to go to school here and I was in your sister's year. Of course I was just a magic and math nerd back then. Okay, I wasn't even really a magic nerd until Ms. Calendar showed me my first copy of the Greater Key of Solomon."

"That old thing?" Dawn asked with a raised eyebrow. Jonathan had a slightly superior smirk.

"Worked on you, didn't it?" He asked. Dawn pouted playfully, but shifted in her chair and made a 'go on' gesture. Jonathan shrugged. "Well, I guess she showed it to me because she saw how steady my hand was. It's so precise that it requires a lot of geometric work that most people just couldn't do. It was pretty cool. I got more involved in it as time went on. It was the only thing in my life that didn't suck for a long time."

"Did you have any lady friends back in high school?" Dawn asked. Jonathan looked at her for a second in disbelief before realizing she was serious. He laughed.

"God, the only guy with a worse High School track record than me was Xander Harris," he shook his head. "Well, I almost had my soul sucked out by a mummy, was tossed aside by Cordelia Chase like rubbish almost two times. God I hate Harmony. So, no not really. Why?"

"Because you really aren't a bad man," Dawn said, her eyes staring deep into his own. Even in the afternoon sunlight, her eyes seemed to sparkle. "There's a spark of something in you; something that I touched."

"High praise from a Seraph," Jonathan said, feeling equally fay in the moment. He cocked his head to the side in an inquisitive look. "You... you don't really feel some things like most people do you?"

"Huh?" Dawn said, mildly confused by the subject change. Jonathan shrugged.

"It's just... well I think we know each other pretty well in some ways," Jonathan continued. He took a sip from his drink and set it back on the counter. "In all the ways that matter the most, huh? You can feel things, can't you? Things that other's just can't feel?"

"Hah," Dawn scoffed after a second. "I used to be able to feel things. Now? Now a freaking elephant could sneak up on me. Living here always mucked with me a little I think, but after whatever it was that Warren did to me, I really haven't been any good at it."

"Hm, makes sense," Jonathan said. Dawn blinked.

"Really?" she asked. "Why?"

"Those sigils," Jonathan began thoughtfully. "They're designed to disrupt the thing that anchors you in this reality. Basically they caused your anchors to flicker. That weakens your connection to the world, lessens your ability to use your powers here. The, er, 'location' is also bad because it's so easy for things to slip away. Just by living here it's probably weakening your connection to this world. The thing is I'm pretty sure that there would be a way to reverse what Warren and the Hellmouth did to you."

"You could do that?" Dawn asked. Jonathan shrugged.

"Sure," he said. "It'd take some research and I'd need your cooperation, but we could definitely do it."

Dawn gave him a brilliant smile and leaned over the table to give him a very soft peck on the cheek. "Thanks. You're the best."

Jonathan was in too much shock to think all that clearly. He absently rubbed his cheek and said the only thing that came to mind. "You're welcome."

"Maybe we should do this coffee thing again," Dawn said, shooting him a smile that was three parts flirting teenager and one part immortal god-being. The combination made Jonathan's chest feel too small and his face feel too warm.

"What about... well, your sister," Jonathan managed. "She was talking about the age thing; and I am five years older than you."

"Five years older than I appear to be," Dawn smirked. "And Buffy has like _no_ moral authority on that one. Her boyfriend when she was sixteen was like three hundred."

0oooo0oooo0

Fred slammed the gate of the twelve foot tall container shut and let out a sigh. She'd been working non stop. She figured it was probably Thursday afternoon. She remember vaguely eating something around midnight, and she was beginning to become hungry again.

But it was done. The final servomotors were working and even the aim calibration on her new addition was more or less on target. The Mark I was ready for an honest to God test. Just in time for her to be kicked out of the company probably.

Fred gave a bitter laugh and walked through the empty lab towards the entry way. Familiar voices caused her to halt and hide, looking through the crack in the doorway. No. It couldn't be. Anything. Anything in the world but _them_. She turned and ran.

"Good afternoon," a graying gentleman said. "Is this Summers, Slade, and Associates?"

"It is," Tara said in a bright voice. "What brings you in today?"

"It's about our daughter," the man said. "She's lost you see."

"O-o-oh," Tara stuttered a little. She smiled. "I know just the Senior Partner who specializes in that. She's a little young, but she's very good at her job."

She pressed a button on her phone. "Dawn? We have some clients downstairs. Missing persons. Yes. Alright, I'll do that. If you two would come with me, I'll escort you to Ms. Summers office."

Dawn looked up from her desk when the two entered with Tara. She narrowed her eyes. There was something about these two that looked familiar. She smiled at them and stood up.

"Dawn Summers," she said in a cheery voice. "Please have a seat. You are?"

"Roger, and this is my wife Trish," Roger said. Dawn extended her hand and both of them shook. When they were all seated again, Dawn gestured to Tara.

"Take notes for us, would you?" Dawn asked. Tara nodded and took out her pen with an intent expression. "So, Roger and Trish, what brings you here today?"

"It's our daughter," Roger said. He looked over at his wife. "She's missing."

"Oh," Dawn said. "Was you daughter kidnapped by evil fiends?'

"We're not entirely sure, honestly," Trish said, giving Dawn a speculative look.

"Hmm... now this may sound odd, but was she involved in a cult or... or 'alternate religion' of some kind?" Dawn hazarded.

"No!" Trish said.

"Hmm," Dawn stated thoughtfully. "Well in this town it could be anything. I may look young, but I'm a good detective. I can find her."

"We already hired a detective," Roger said warily. Dawn blinked.

"And he couldn't find her?" Dawn asked.

"Actually he said she was staying here," Roger responded. Dawn felt the bottom of her stomach start to drop.

"Her name is Winnifred," Trish offered. "We call her Fred."

"F-f-fred is your daughter?" Tara said with wide eyes.

"Yes, is she here?" Roger asked.

"Is she alright?" Trish added.

"She's here," Dawn said. "And she's just fine. Hold on one sec."

She picked up the phone and hit the lab's extension.

"Dominoes Pizza, may I take your order?" Andrew asked. Dawn rolled her eyes.

"Where's your boss?" Dawn asked. "I need to talk to her."

"She just left actually, in a real hurry," Andrew said. He sounded kind of thoughtful. "I dunno. She took off her lab coat and just threw it on her desk. Said something about needing to get away. I can understand; she's been working all night..."

"Thank you Andrew," Dawn interrupted. She hung up the phone. "Well, um, it looks like Fred just stepped out for a minute. Would you like to... er see where she works?"

"Thank you, but I'd rather find my daughter," Trish said. Dawn held her head in her hands.

"All right," Dawn said. "But let me make a few phone calls. How did you find us anyhow?"

"Fred wrote us a letter about a month ago," Roger said. "No return address, just told us she was okay and that we shouldn't come looking for her. How is she? Where has she been all these years?"

"Um," Dawn answered intelligently. "Well, I only met her recently but she was at, um, loose ends so to speak and I hired her. She's a brilliant woman, has a lot of talent. How about this, why don't you just go with Tara and check out the lab while I make some phone calls okay? I'm sure we'll find her in no time. Who knows, maybe she'll come right back?"

0oooo0oooo0

Fred slammed her shot glass down and looked at Willy in a bleary haze. The Dragon's Wing was only moderately crowded, but the dim lighting and pounding music were doing little to help Fred's rebellious inner ear. She swayed to the heavy beat of the DJ's music, her head swinging limply from side to side.

"I think you've had enough," Willy stated. Fred looked at him with a grim seriousness that dissolved into a fit of giggles after about five seconds.

"Why does it even matter?" she slurred. Willy, used to far more eccentric behavior from far worse customers just shook his head. "They're here. Why are they here? The _can't_ be here."

"Who's they?" Willy asked cautiously. Fred became instantly serious again.

"The worst possible thing," Fred stated with a steely resolve. Drunken steely resolve, but that was much better than most people with the alcohol tolerance of a gnat half of their way through a bottle of vodka could manage.

"Uh... Angelus is back in town?" Willy offered with an expression that stated just how hopeful he was that his guess was completely wrong.

"No," Fred stated. "Worse than... whoever that is. No; this is... _parents_."

Willy let loose a sigh of relief he hadn't even known he'd been keeping. With the kinds of people that the 'Senior Partners' of Summers, Slade, and Associates pissed off on a regular basis, it always paid to check. He might not own this place anymore, but he'd be damned if he let himself get blindsided this late in his life. He'd been playing the game too long for that.

"Fred?" a voice asked. Blearily Fred looked into the concerned green eyes of Dawn. The younger Summers and Jonathan were standing just a few feet away. Willy gave the two newcomers an extremely grateful wave and wandered off to tend the bar elsewhere. He didn't want to stick around for this. Fred took a few seconds to muster a frown that looked much more like a pout before she turned away.

"D'wanna talk t' you," Fred stated. Dawn put her hands on her hips, but after thinking for a moment, she pulled up a stool next to Fred and sighed.

"I'm sorry Fred," Dawn said. She looked genuinely contrite. "I... I haven't be a good boss, and I haven't been a good friend to you lately."

"S'okay," Fred mumbled. "You were busy bein'-er, walloped by that thingy and having Jonathan an' Willow save you from it. Er' somthin?"

"Or something," Dawn admitted.

"Is just that it's not fair," Fred stated, gently banging her head against the concrete bar top. "I work so hard on these things and you guys don't even notice 'em. Like the Alpha project. That's a good 'un. Ain't that right Andrew?"

"It's Jonathan," the boy responded, running a hand through his white hair in frustration. He and Dawn shared a look, and finally he spoke up again. "Look Doc; Fred, is this about your parents?"

"Can't," Fred whispered. "J's can't."

"They're here, Fred, they're here for you and they aren't going to leave until they see you. Right now they're back at the base with the Jackals and _Andrew_. Can you think of the mayhem that'll cause?"

"Y' don't understand!" Fred yelled. To his own surprise Jonathan stood straight up and yelled right back.

"Then make me!"

The heavy beat of the music was the only thing that they could hear. Finally Fred began to quiver before launching herself at Jonathan and wrapping him in a fierce hug. Her tears were hot on his chest, but he wrapped his arms around her.

"Hush," he said, smoothing her hair back. Dawn gave him a small triumphant smile which he only barely noticed. But he had bigger things to worry about. He waited for the crying to subside a little bit before relaxing his hug. "Now come on Fred; tell me. Help me understand this."

"Is like... like a bad movie," Fred said, leaning heavily against Jonathan. "Like on' of those horror movies, right? You keep watching it, but you're lookin' around, waiting for the bad guy to come out of the shadows. You don't know what's real and what's not. You know? Then you run into something that makes you know what's real and what's not. They're... they're real. And I don't know what real is anymore. I don' know and I don' _wanna_ know! But they're here; and they won't let me run anymore."

"Then you're just going to have to face it," Dawn said from behind her. "Because they aren't going away. Because this... all this, is _real_ Fred. You _know_ it is. Remember?"

Fred nodded into Jonathan's chest and shivered a little. Dawn smiled.

"Then come with us," Dawn said soothingly. She reached over and ran a hand up and down Fred's back and Fred pressed back into her hand just a little.

"I don' wanna," Fred stated. Dawn walked around so that she was in Fred's line of vision again. Gently she reached up and tucked some of Fred's loose hair behind her ear.

"I didn't either, but I had to. Or else you'll never move on, never be free. You're tired of running right? Then stand."

Gently Jonathan and Dawn managed to coax a much less resistant Fred out of the Dragon Wing Tavern and down the street towards the Summers, Slade, and Associates building. It was a shame that they weren't able to hear better. Otherwise they might have noticed the ten foot tall monstrosity that was sneaking along just a few blocks behind them.

0oooo0oooo0

"So," Roger said. "You're?"

"We're the Jackals," Rhonda said, scuffing her short black hair and giving Roger a feral smile. The other three were lounging around the lab looking very bored. Andrew was giving a slightly fascinated but increasingly confused Trish a walk around the laboratory and fabrication facility. That left Roger to deal with the 'charm squad'. Roger figured he probably got off easy on this one as he watched his wife become more and more bewildered.

"And what do you... do for this company exactly?" Roger prompted.

"We're outside relations," Tor said with a lazy grin of his own. Roger saw the prominently displayed heavy caliber side arms that all four were wearing rather conspicuously and his look became more speculative.

"Mercenaries?" he hazarded. Rhonda shrugged.

"We prefer the term military contractors," she said. "Why? You got a problem?"

"Ease off!" Xander snapped. The four of them immediately stiffened and backed away. Roger turned to Xander with a nod.

"You're their commanding officer?" Roger asked. Xander gave a nod and a rueful shrug.

"As much as anyone is," Xander said, and his irritation carried clearly through. He extended a hand to Roger and gave him the best smile he could muster. "Xander Harris. Pleasure to meet you; hear you guys are Fred's parents?"

"Yup," Roger said.

"Well," Xander said. "Don't worry about her. Dawn's one of the best people at... finding things I guess I've ever met. And speak of the devil..."

Xander gestured behind him and Roger Burkle turned to see his daughter being propped up by the white haired boy they'd met earlier and Dawn. He took one halting step forward and then another.

"Fred?" he asked quietly. "Is that you?"

She looked up at him, her lower lip trembling. "Daddy? I'm sorry..."

Then there was a rush and tangle of limbs. Somehow he and his wife had wrapped their daughter up in a group hug. The white haired boy, Jonathan, had extracted himself from the group and was watching with a sort of wistful looking smile.

"I'm so sorry," Fred said again. Her mother made soothing sounds.

"Don't you worry," her mother said. "We'll take you home. You'll see."

"But..." Fred began, but Roger cut her off.

"But nothing," Roger said. "You're our daughter. No matter what else changes, that ain't ever gonna. Now come on, let's get you home."

"I... I can go home?" Fred asked. The Burkles nodded. Fred turned to Dawn who had a sad smile on her face.

"Of course you can Fred," Dawn said. "I... We'll miss you terribly. But I'm not going to keep you from going home. Wouldn't even dream of doing that."

Fred gave a hesitant smile and buried her face into her father's jacket some more.

0oooo0oooo0

Jonathan and Dawn stood out in the back alley. Jonathan shook his head. Both of them had been feeling the need for some air. It had gotten pretty intense in there.

"I can't believe she's actually leaving."

"Can you blame her?" Dawn prompted. She looked upset with herself. "I mean, we haven't exactly been the nicest people in the world to her lately. I feel really bad about that."

Jonathan walked up behind her and gave her a very tentative hug. She leaned into him and closed her eyes, just trying to feel his warmth against the cool November night.

"You shouldn't blame yourself for all of this," Jonathan stated. Dawn laughed, and the sound carried into his chest.

"But I'm the boss, my responsibility right?" she asked in an acid tone.

"Responsibility yeah sure," Jonathan said. "But fault? That's not really the same thing. I mean, you weren't really even that mean. You were just distant. You've been distant from all of them lately. Heck, if _I_ noticed, you know it has to be bad."

She laughed a little more at his feeble joke, but she looked up at him in some confusion. "What do you mean when you say that?"

"It just seems like it's been awhile since you did stuff with Fred, or Mr. Wink, or Slade. They're here because of you," Jonathan observed. He gave her a pat on the back. "I mean, I don't want to sound like a stalker or anything, but how many hours a day are you holed up in that office and out on patrol?"

"A lot," Dawn muttered. She had a look of dawning recognition. And the more she thought about it the more sour she felt. "Really a lot."

"Do you need to sleep like a human?" Jonathan asked. Dawn nodded.

"Pretty much like any other person," she said.

Jonathan nodded. "Hm. Then you're going to need to cut back a little. Or you're going to bury yourself in there and never get out. When was the last time you went clubbing? A month and a half ago when you caught us?"

"Something like that," Dawn said, chewing on her lip.

"Then get out more," Jonathan said, giving her a gentle squeeze.

"If I don't do it, then it isn't getting done," Dawn grumbled. "Buffy with paperwork? Screw that. And Slade is so busy on the outside..."

"Then use Giles or Tara," Jonathan countered. "They're certainly smart enough and organized enough to help out. Just think about it, eh? Because I don't want you to be stuck with a life of regrets. I mean, as crazy as life is here, we're not going to live forever."

A huge claw swept out of the shadows, tossing Dawn one way and Jonathan another. Pushing herself up, Dawn spat a series of unintelligible curses at Jonathan and the world.

"You idiot," Dawn called out. She vanished and reappeared standing, her armor visible and spear in hand. "Never say things like that around here."

"Duly noted," Jonathan said, sliding into a sitting position.

Both of them watched as the demon strode out of the shadows. They looked up... and then up some more. Somewhere in the near stratosphere, a dozen glowing eyes regarded them malevolently. Six arms covered in armored exoskeleton and terminating in huge rending claws moved in a fluid pattern as the creature regarded them.

"Um," Dawn said after a second. "Did you know they came in 'Biggie' size?"

"I think we're gonna need a bigger boat," Jonathan muttered.

The unholy scream that echoed from its body caused the stones and blacktop beneath them to vibrate as it charged. In a moment of supreme clarity, Dawn wondered just what exactly Fred had been planning to do with that anti-vehicle weapon. And where it was. Right now.

"Jonathan," she said mildly. "Run. Now."

0oooo0oooo0

Fred picked up one of the design pads that littered her desk and small apartment room. She smiled down at the pad. It was the first sketch designs that Dawn had told her to produce. She still remembered that day; she could hardly talk to anyone. She still liked to hide under tables then too. Of course when Slade had brought her here and offered to give her this space for her work, she'd jumped at it.

But it was still hiding. Hiding from everything that she thought that she couldn't face. Everything that had decided to face her whether she liked it or not.

Gently she placed the pad back on the desk.

"Are you all right honey?" Trish asked. Fred looked up at her mother and smiled a little sadly.

"I don't know mama," she said. Trish smiled.

"I think that's okay," Trish responded, walking over and giving Fred a quick hug. "You built quite a lot here. It's really impressive."

"Well, Andrew and Jonathan thought so," Fred said.

"Hey!" Roger called out. "Looks like most of the packing's done. You've been living light."

"Yes daddy," she called back. Trish put her hand of Fred's shoulder.

"I think you're selling yourself short honey..."

Whatever else she might have said was cut off by a god-awful roar. Trish looked sharply at her daughter. Jonathan burst in the back door looking extremely panicked.

"Fred, thing, _huge_!" he said. "Right outside. Aurora's leading it on a goose chase."

"How big is huge?" Fred asked, walking forward. Jonathan shook his head.

"Hard to tell," he said. "Like jeep sized maybe? Bigger I think. And covered in armor things."

"We don't have anything that might..." Fred abruptly stopped. She turned to the sealed crate that stood in the corner; though crate was perhaps a misnomer seeing as it was six feet wide and twelve feet tall. Jonathan followed the path of her eyes.

"No!" Jonathan exclaimed. "We need to test it first!"

"This is as good a time as any, right?" Fred asked.

"No it's not!" Jonathan countered. Another roar caused everyone to wince. Fred looked over he shoulder at the loading dock doors. She turned back to the crate with an expression of renewed determination.

"Too bad," Fred stated, walking over and punching a code into the side of the box. There was a hiss as the pressure inside equalized and the door opened. She stepped away from the crate and all four pairs of eyes focused on it.

"My god," Roger whispered. "Does it work?"

"Yep," Fred drawled. She blushed a little. "Except for one thing. Daddy, you know how this ammo feed works? I never could get it to work right. Of course, being as I've had it all of a day and a half..."

Roger nodded, still dumbstruck and answering completely on autopilot. "Worked with one of them in 'Nam."

"Thank you daddy," Fred beamed. She turned to Jonathan. "You know what to do."

"Yes ma'am," Jonathan said, standing up sharply. He walked over to a table next to the crate and plugged a free cable into his laptop. "All systems transferring from standby to active. Everything is in the green so far."

"Good," Fred stated, turning back to the crate. "Now go get the Jackals. I figure we're gonna need the help."

Jonathan nodded and took off down the hall. Fred watched him go for a second before regarding the device before her. "I always wondered what it would be like to wrestle a demon. Guess I'll find out now."

0oooo0oooo0

Dawn Summers was pissed. And scared. That was a hard combination to really pull off well, but this thing was going for a record here. It was huge, armored, and _fast_. Faster than a normal human. And for a thing that had arms that resembled steel plated telephone poles in their density, that was _way_ too fast.

She barely dodged another hit. Her spear flashed out and bit into the demon's arm. However the colossal thing just reared back as if from an insect sting. The next two arm strikes forced her to re materialize a few feet back. Then her luck ran out. It was really only a glancing blow, but it sent her flying. She bounced painfully off the wall behind her, and the thing was following up really quickly.

It probably would have pounced on her if the sudden raising of the loading dock door hadn't drawn its attention away. The thing standing in the doorway was back lit by the interior lights, several sections of it also gave off a faint blue light. When it stepped forward Dawn's eyes adjusted; and she couldn't understand what she was seeing.

It was more or less human shaped, but writ large. Its limbs appeared to be made of steel, and its hands were more at home on a titanic gorilla than the would be on a human arm. A pair of pylons rose out of the back of the robot thing, casting a blue light from clear panels. The head was sleek and angular, four lenses of differing colors staring out, moving and focusing in an eerie mechanical facsimile of life.

However, the real thing that caught her attention was that it didn't move like a clunky knight wearing too much steel. It moved with a kind of liquid flow that only a living being could accomplish. Its head swiveled to look at them, and the machine raised its arms. Cradled in them was the enormous weapon that Dawn had seen before. It was even bigger assembled. Then it really surprised her.

"Get away from her you _bitch_."

Fred's unexpected twang was coupled with the M-2 in the machine's (Fred's?) arms going off like the hammer of God in the small alleyway. The beast shrieked as half its arms were simply blown off. Huge crater-like wounds from the heavy shells blossomed all across the creature and gore washed down on the street.

It roared in defiance and leaped at the armored suit. With a nimbleness Dawn wasn't expecting the suit moved backwards, keeping the heavy machine gun on target the whole time. However, as nimble as the suit was, the monster was quicker; and more flexible. The suit only got off one more five round burst into the chest of the creature before it knocked the weapon aside. Then it was a wrestling match of the titans as the suit and demon grappled.

She looked over to see the Jackals kneeling down with their new rifles and Roger Burkle sitting behind another one of those huge guns that the suit had. This one was mounted on a four legged stand. A shrieking noise of tires on asphalt caused Dawn to look up. Blanching she realized that the very large vehicle heading for her wasn't going to slow down. With a curse she shifted from sitting on the pavement to standing with her back pressed tightly to the stone wall behind her.

The truck was a big one, but not the biggest she'd ever seen. It was more than big enough to slam into the struggling demon just as the back of the suit flared with blue white flames of maneuvering jets and dug its feet into the pavement. Caught between the crushing arms of the steel titan and the truck the huge demon made an uncharacteristically pitiful noise at the impact. There was a sickening crunch, and the steel suit managed to get a hand free, jabbing it up under the demon's over sized mandibles and holding the head in place.

The thunder of the .50 caliber bullets rang once more and the demon went limp, its neck completely shattered by the force of the rounds. Roger Burkle, sitting behind the Browning, smiled. The Jackals, including Xander and Anya, were looking at him with unabashed respect.

The window of the truck opened and Trish stuck her head out. "Did we get it y'all?"

"Yes mama," the robot's voice said. It stepped back and the helmet above folded back to reveal Fred's sweaty but triumphant face. She smiled down at Dawn. "So, this was what I've been workin' on. Whaddya think?"

Dawn gave her a weak smile and a thumbs up.

And she once again renewed her vow to never _ever_ piss off Fred without a damn good reason.

0oooo0oooo0

"My god," Liz whispered. The carcass of the 'thing' was impressive enough. Currently it was laying on the loading dock being disassembled by the Jackals who were using industrial saws to do it. It was extremely messy, but better that than leaving it to rot in the alleyway. The neighbors would complain.

"I'm thinking that God? Not so much," Buffy said. She turned away. "Apparently Willow and Tara think this thing might have come through when Dawn was captured by that crazy Texan and they used freaky magic on her. I swear I'm not letting that girl out of my sight again. Too much trouble for words."

"Would anything else have gotten through?" Liz asked. Buffy shrugged.

"Nobody knows," Buffy said. "But if something did, I figure we'll see it sooner rather than later. And to think I ran into like _nothing_ on patrol. I don't get it. Is Dawn some kind of danger magnet or something?"

"Who cares about that," Liz said. She gestured over to where Fred was standing proudly next to her power armor with her parents. The beast's head, big enough to swallow a child whole, laying on the ground in front of them. It was like a family hunting photo, Liz realized as Jonathan snapped a picture. Only with more demons and power armor. "Look at her parents."

"Yeah," Buffy said. "They seem like good people."

"I think they are," Liz said. "And they have an open mind. That's something you don't see every day."

"No, it really isn't," Buffy said. She watched as Fred posed with her family for another moment. "You know, I think there's something different about her. I just can't place it."

"Who," Liz asked. "Fred?"

"Yeah," Buffy said in a thoughtful voice.

Liz smirked. "That's easy. She's smiling; and this time she means it."

The camera bulb flashed in the warehouse, capturing a mother, father, and a daughter who was smiling without a hint of shadow in her eyes. It was a rare thing that the photo captured; the smile of a woman who knew where she belonged and who at long last had finally arrived there. It was a smile of freedom.


End file.
